Vengeance, and How Love Blooms in Hardship
by Vagonnoth
Summary: Keitaro and Naru encounter some unexpected danger on an expedition, and Naru doesn't escape. How will Keitaro avenge her death? And will another resident of Hinata House be able to heal his broken heart? Now with extra angst!
1. Heart's Blood Spilled

Okay, 1) I don't own Love Hina or its characters, settings, whatever, no matter how much I want to… 2) Any people who don't like angst, RUN! RUN AND SAVE YOURSELVES! Um, yeah, that's about it… Oh yeah, 3) please, please give me some opinions on this! This is my first fanfic ever, and I desperately need some constructive criticism.

Thanx,

Vagonnoth

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Chapter 1: Heart's Blood Spilled

**Grand Hall, Phoenix Ruins, Shinimalus, 7:26 P.M.**

"Here! I can see the entrance! Quick, this way!"

Footsteps sounded out in the hollow halls, muffled by the filth of ages.

"Are you sure? What if they're there?"

"Well, we know they're behind us, right? So we don't have anything to lose! Come on Naru, just a little farther…" Urashima Keitaro turned and smiled that confident, self-assured smile he knew she loved. Narusegawa Naru looked up at him and smiled back, encouraged by his optimism. They climbed the last bits of crumbling ruins to the entryway partially obscured by foliage, Keitaro glowing from adrenaline and exertion, Naru somewhat the worse for the wear.

Keitaro was wearing just a torn t-shirt and frayed slacks, both badly begrimed with the mud, moss, and other dirt of the ruins. He had a whip coiled on his belt, a last gift from his mentor, Seta, before they parted ways some years ago. A holster for a pistol rested at his other hip, but the gun itself was gone, resting at the bottom of a pit the two had narrowly escaped earlier.

Naru was wearing a somewhat less functional spaghetti-strap top and shorts, the straps on the top repeatedly knotted where they had snapped. She, too, was terribly begrimed, one lens of her glasses badly scratched, and her hair clumped and in disarray. She had a hopeful smile as she followed her husband, happy to be watching him doing what he most loves, but still terribly frightened of the danger that was following, and maybe ahead. Suddenly, laugher rang out ahead of them. A figure stood silhouetted against the light from the entrance, which was in reality dim, but seemed blinding to the two who had been in the dark ruins for the past three hours.

"You two gave us a good run," the figure said in a deep, masculine voice. "Still, I must say, you didn't move quite as fast as I expected you to, Urashima. I wonder why…?" The figure trailed off, looking behind Keitaro to see Naru climbing up behind him. "So, that's what it was… dear me, it looks like two lovers fighting to stay together in a world gone mad… and the hero will do anything, even sacrifice his own escape to help her. How tragic." The figure stepped forward. It was difficult to see details, but Keitaro knew the tall man would be wearing his trench-coat despite the heat, with only the top button undone to expose the scar across his throat and his hair pulled back in a ponytail. Keitaro stepped forward, his arms spread to show peace.

"I don't know what you want, Kurosawa, but whatever it is, I don't have it. You have the ruins, you have the artifacts, now let us free."

The stranger stared a moment, then looked down. His shoulders started to shake and a mad little giggle began to issue forth from his massive, shuddering frame. Suddenly, he threw his head back and cackled in an overly dramatic, caricatured way that Keitaro knew all too well.

After a moment of horrified fascination, Keitaro realized this was his chance; the distance between them made it a difficult, but he knew his training with Seta had made him faster than he would have thought possible just a few years earlier. "Now!" he cried, pulling out his whip with such speed Naru didn't even see it and charging forward to attack the apparently distracted madman.

Unfortunately, the man was not as occupied as he seemed. The man's head snapped down, and suddenly he was holding a gun in front of him. It was as though he never moved. Keitaro, more than half-way across the distance between them and in the air, watched it with shock. His eyes widened, and he felt the impact in his shoulder before he heard the shot ring out into the echoing, cavernous hall. The bullet knocked him backwards, his shoulder bleeding freely. Naru watched helplessly from the side, unable to move as the man she loved bled on the cavern floor. The trench-coat clad figure chuckled again.

"You're mistaken. You do have what I want…" His eyes narrowed as he spoke, and his smile widened. He then said softly, almost a whisper, "your life!"

Naru moved without thinking. "Keita-!" she cried, diving in front of him. Her cry was interrupted as the bullet struck her in the left side of her chest. The blow spun her around, and Keitaro managed to sit up and catch her despite his wounded shoulder. The man snarled and shot again, this time the bullet striking Keitaro in his chest. As the two slumped back on the floor, Naru opened her eyes and looked at Keitaro. "Kei…taro…" she whispered, her lifeblood flowing freely from the wound in her chest. "I…love…" and she trailed off, fighting to speak. Footsteps approached…

"Shh," He whispered, rasping out his words; the bullet seemed to have struck his lung. "I…know. I love…you…too…" The footsteps stopped, and as Keitaro's vision faded, he looked up and saw the man standing over him. The last thing Keitaro heard as unconsciousness mercifully rushed up to claim him was a woman's voice, far away, shouting. He closed his eyes, thinking, wondering how this could have happened. _Still, at least Naru and I are together…_

_Together._

_In life and in death._

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"Kurosawa! What the Hell are you doing!" A woman had appeared at the entrance, and was striding into the room, bearing down on the trench-coated menace. He grinned smugly, and turned away from the unconscious couple, bowing deeply.

"Just carrying out my orders, lady-" his words were interrupted by a backhand from the woman. As she marched past him, he took the opportunity to look at her closer. She was shorter than he, but still almost six feet tall. She wore a highly impractical looking dress which cascaded over her slender form in deep blue waves. As the gossamer folds floated behind her, it looked as though a single twig might tear a hole in it. The woman herself looked only marginally less frail. _Of course,_ he thought, _that's part of what makes her so damn dangerous…_ Then she was kneeling next to Keitaro, having unceremoniously shifted Naru off him.

"And just whose orders were you acting on, dolt?" she asked, her tone at roughly zero degrees Kelvin.

"Why, yours milady," he replied, still grinning despite the growing red mark on his face. "You told me to eliminate those who would… interfere." The woman tore off what was left of Keitaro's shirt, stripping it into rough bandages.

"Check your damn phone," was all she said. He reached into his coat pocket, and withdrew a slim, black, handheld satellite phone. He turned it on, looking at his messages. Suddenly, he stopped, and grew crimson. He clenched his fist, closing the phone and stuffing it angrily into his pocket. In front of him, the woman continued bandaging. He took a quiet, deep breath and composed himself.

"Lady, I missed the update, and for that I apologize. But I was in hot pursuit of the target! I cannot be expected to be able to alter my methods at the slightest whim. This is why I request full briefing and infor-" he cut off as she slowly turned her head.

"Perhaps you need reminding as to why you work for me, ne?" she purred, standing up and moving closer. He stood at attention, stock still, as she draped her arms around his neck. Standing on tiptoe, she brought a hand up and traced the scar on his throat, whispering into his ear: "Just think on this… and if you need reminding, please come to me when I'm not otherwise… occupied." She stepped back and returned to Keitaro, looking down at him. Kurosawa shuddered as she turned away, and reached up to mop the perspiration that had broken out on his forehead.

_Damn, how I hate her,_ he thought, glaring at her figure. Suddenly, her voice lashed out in the silence.

"Get our friend Urashima here back to the vehicle. Forget about the girl. There's nothing she could tell us." She turned and began walking back to the entrance, snapping open a fan as she did so. "And be gentle…" she sang out. Gritting his teeth as he slung the unconscious archeologist over his shoulder and unfolded his six-foot eight frame, the killer cast one more glance down at Naru, lying in a puddle of her and Keitaro's blood.

_Wrong place, wrong time, wrong guy… _He thought, turning back to the entrance and striding out into the jungle.

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**Unknown Stretch of Jungle, Shinimalus, 1:34 A.M.**

_Pain… Why do I still hurt? Why does the next world hurt so much…? It's all dark. Naru! Where's Naru? _

"Naru!" Shouted Keitaro hoarsely, sitting up and clutching at his chest as he felt the pain of his wound. Looking down, he saw the IV running from his arm to the stand next to him. He looked back up and took in his surroundings. It seemed he was in some sort of hospital tent, lying on a cot. There was no one else there. Turning and wincing, he saw what he most dreaded: the flaming skull insignia of the Bringers of Order on the tent flaps.

Scrambling, he pulled the IV line out of his arm, and tied a quick bandage around it to stop the bleeding. He got up, staggering briefly as the weakness from his wound caught up with him. Regaining his balance, he went over to the one piece of furniture in the room besides his cot: a small desk, the drawers unlocked. Sadly, inside he found nothing more suitable for a weapon than a felt-tip pen. Looking around frantically, he tried to find something more to aid his escape.

He returned to his cot and disassembled the IV stand, taking the pole as a weapon in this better-than-nothing situation. Leaning on it, he slipped over to the tent flaps and peeked out, seeing nothing but a small fire in the distance and a number of other tents. Poking his head out further, he saw a guard standing just to the left of the tent opening.

Carefully, Keitaro brought his makeshift quarterstaff up for an attack, but then noticed the way the guard looked limp. _Like he's hanging from something,_ Keitaro thought. Cautiously, he nudged the guard, and the body rotated on the rubber hospital tourniquet around its neck. Whirling, Keitaro looked back into the tent. Everything was as it was before, except… Suddenly, a figure rose from the shadows near the desk where it had been sitting on the floor.

"Kurosawa!" Keitaro growled, recognizing the trench-coated figure from his earlier encounter. _I didn't even sense him enter… How?_ _No time to think, got to be quick!_ Leaning heavily on his staff, Keitaro stared as the man unfolded himself to his full height. Kurosawa grinned, and spread his arms.

"Come now, you're wounded, should you really be out of bed? You know we're all worried about your health," Kurosawa said, grinning all the while. Keitaro, feeling an overpowering sense of defeat, began to sway on his feet. Kurosawa slowly walked forward, smiling that obnoxious smile… Keitaro's eyes began to close and his vision narrowed until all he could see was that smile… that smile… Suddenly, he realized Kurosawa was directly in front of him, arms still spread, the smile still there. He knew that, whatever it cost, he was going to try to erase that smile. Slumping sideways, he made as though to fall, then caught himself in a lunged position. Kurosawa, one arm in front of Keitaro to catch him, the other still outspread, had no time. Keitaro swung the staff up and shot back to a standing position, driving forward with all his strength on the staff. Its tip connected with the killer's throat where it met the jaw line. A crack sounded throughout the tent, Kurosawa falling sideways, gurgling. Keitaro stumbled, then caught himself and rushed out of the tent into the tropical darkness, supporting himself on the staff.

Lying on the floor, back in the tent, Kurosawa opened his eyes, reached up, and pushed against his throat. The click of something snapping back into place was heard. In the silence, Kurosawa stared at the ceiling. _The bitch deserves it. Well, time to report the failure of these "elite" guards she posted. _Once more, he began to giggle, a sound which quickly escalated into his full-blown maniacal laughter, echoing far out through the jungle night.

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**Suspected Paralantis Ruin Site, Unnamed Pacific Ocean Island, 2:02 P.M. **

"Seta-san! There's an urgent phone call for you!"

The call cut through the noise and dust of the excavation, reaching the ears of a man currently uncovering a gigantic statue of a turtle. He straightened up and turned, revealing himself to be a tall, sturdy man somewhere in his mid-thirties. Wearing his trademark lab coat, and smoking a cigarette even on this dry dig, he walked over to the tent that served to keep the sun off what little electronics they had. Picking up the reciever, he heard some static, then a voice on the other end. A voice with a strange accent reached his ears.

"Mister Seta?"

"I suppose that's me, yes? What can I do for you?"

"Thank goodness… I am the governor of a small island called Shinimalus. We have been on a search for you since this morning. A message came in from one of our more isolated villages saying that a man had staggered in half dead from loss of blood. The last words he said were 'Seta,' 'Toudai,' and something that sounded like 'Hina.' After contacting Toudai University, we were given this number. Is there anything you can tell us?"

"I'm afraid I'm clueless!" declared Seta, scratching his head. A woman began walking towards him from the dig. "I don't know what to make of it either. Has he come around yet?"

"I am sorry, we cannot get medical vehicles down there this season. The roads are dangerous this time of year, the villiage is several miles inland, and a volcano near one of the main paths is showing signs of activity. It was sheer luck the messenger got through." The voice on the phone sounded concerned, as through there was something else bothering it than the possible death of some unidentified foreigner.

"What's going on here?" a voice behind Seta queried.

"Oh, Haruka-chan!" The archaeologist turned. His wife stood almost as tall as him, with short dark hair. She was wearing shorts and a tank-top as concession to the heat, though she usually wore slacks and a vest over a long-sleeved shirt. "Nothing much, just a mysterious phone call from Shinimalus saying there's some guy that just staggered into an outlying village standing at death's door. Apparently he said three things before he went out: my name, Toudai, and something like Hina. Any ideas?" The clueless archaeologist sweat-dropped and scratched his head, holding the receiver at arm's length. Then he noticed that Haruka had a stunned expression on her face, a very rare occurrence. "Haruka-chan?"

She stared blankly ahead and the cigarette dropped from her lips.

"Keitaro…!"

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**A Small Village, Shinimalus, 5:23 P.M.**

The small biplane circled, searching for a landing place. Finally, it settled down in a relatively open patch to the side of the village. Seta and Haruka hopped lightly out and walked into the village. A native came up, clad in t-shirt and shorts, and said in broken Japanese "Here, he here…" He led the way to a small hut. As they enter, a local girl who was bathing Keitaro's brow looked up, blushed, bowed, and ran out.

Haruka sighed. _Some things just never change… _she thought. She knelt down and pulled away the blanket to expose Keitaro's chest. His wound was wrapped in fresh bandages, but he was pale and his breathing seemed weak. "We've got to get him to a hospital. Looks like he took one in the lung," she stated. At the sound of her voice, Keitaro stirred and opened his eyes. Seta leaned over and smiled.

"Hey part-timer, you're looking like you got pretty roughed up! I've been there before, don't worry. We're gonna get you loaded up and out of here in a jiff. Just relax now." Keitaro stared at him for a few seconds, seeming not to comprehend, then his eyes teared up and he closed them, whispering a word.

"Naru…"

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Ok, that's it for part one, I guess! Yeah, the plot sounds like that of a bad Indiana Jones movie (ish), and the new characters are a touch… stereotypical? But hey, it's kinda hard not to make them that way… It's like it completes the crappiness. So, now that the first installment is out, please give some opinions here! I'm sure I'll get a lot of flames for this one, but please take it easy! Again, constructive criticism is heavily desired, so fire away, please! Oh, and if anyone is willing to do a pre-read of my future chapters, please get in touch!

Suggestions, criticisms, flames (if you really can't hold it in), and other stuffs can be sent here: Vagonnoth at hotmail dot com (I still don't know why the document editor is being weird and not letting me type it in normally... anybody know why?)


	2. Two Returns, Joy and Sorrow

Ok, I don't own Love Hina no matter how much I wish I did. Ken Akamatsu does, lucky bastard, and I'm not getting any money for this so hopefully he won't send his squad of evil hit-lawyers to strip my financial person to the bones like a cow in the Amazon. ; Anyways, this here is the second installment, and I hope you enjoyed the first. Please continue to review, as I'm always looking for helpful criticism.

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Chapter 2 - Two Returns, Joy and Sorrow

**Hinata House Girl's Dormitory, 9:30 A.M.**

At the base of the steps leading up to the girl's dorm a figure out of the past stood, clad in a kendo uniform with a sword sheathed at its waist. It looked up, and suddenly it became clear that this visitor was a woman, and a beautiful one at that. As her black hair streamed out behind her in a sudden breeze, she thought to herself, _well, I'm back…_ Aoyama Motoko began to climb the stairs.

At the top, she saw the house she spent the best years of her life in. As the memories came flooding back, she smiled, wondering how much had changed. Walking in the door, she looked around, stunned to see that the place was just as she last remembered seeing it. Then she turned, sensing someone standing on the stairs. The woman walking down the stairs was someone she hasn't seen in years. As the person came grumbling about restocking the teahouse, Motoko mischievously smiled and bowed low.

"Hello, I would like to rent a room please," she said, remaining bowed. The other woman stopped and turned, looking at her. As Motoko straightened up, smiling, a grin lit up the other woman's face, and she turned and shouted up the stairs: "Su! Shinobu! Everyone! Quick, Motoko's back!" Then she turned back and looked at Motoko. "Well, girl, you've grown up even more since you left here! Hehe, I've been reading your books…"

Motoko blushed, looking down. "Thank you, Konno-san, I'm surprised you would read something like historical fiction, but-" Kitsune grinned even wider.

"No, no, no, I meant those other books..." She trailed off, leaving it at that and winking. Motoko's blush grew even more furious, and she hastened to stammer a reply.

"K-konno-san, I'd forgotten you know my penname... Please, don't-" Her protestations were cut short by Kitsune.

"Tell anyone, yeah, yeah, I know, I've heard it a thousand times. I'll only tell if you call me by my surname again. Not that there's anyone here who doesn't know! You're a good writer, though. Uh oh, here they come…" She trailed off as a commotion came rapidly nearer from up the stairs. Suddenly, a girl with spiky white hair came rocketing down the stairs, closely followed by another, younger, blonde girl. They both launched themselves at Motoko, apparently aiming to maim. The one with white hair jumped up and wrapped herself around Motoko's neck, while the blonde one latched onto her sleeve.

"Motoko-chan! Motoko-chan's back! Whatcha bring me?"

"Yeah, kendo-girl, whatcha bring us?"

Motoko laughed out loud, smiling brightly. "It's good to see you guys too, Su, Sarah! Here, I brought you this," she said, holding out two wrapped boxes. Su tore hers open and found a bunch of bananas and a new techno-toy to revamp. Sarah opened hers even more violently, and found a bunch of candies and a strange archaeological artifact.

"Yaay! Bananas!" Su shouted.

"What's this weird thing…?" muttered Sarah, trying to hide her smile.

Suddenly, from the kitchen, another girl, this one with blue-tinted hair appeared. "Motoko-chan…?" she said, a smile lighting up her face.

"Shinobu!" called Motoko. "It's great to see you again!" From the back of the house, three more people walked up. "You too, Kanako! It's good to see that you're still landlord."

"Of course I am," stated the dark-looking girl with a thin smile. "Who else would oniichan entrust it to?"

"Who else indeed? And you, Ema! You've grown much more beautiful while I was gone!"

The newest girl to Hinata House blushed, looking down. "Thank you," she said. "I've been feeling much better about my studies lately, and think I'll be able to make it into Toudai when the time comes!"

"That's fantastic, Ema-chan!" She then looked at the last arrival. "Mutsumi-chan, I hope you're well! How is your graduate school work?"

The last woman smiled and covered her mouth with her hand. Tama, the hot springs turtle on her head, imitated the gesture. "Oh, my studies are just fine. The biology of watermelons is just so fascinating! We hope to be able to get a doughnut shaped one soon. The closest we've gotten is a disc." She beamed, apparently not noticing the sweat drops that had appeared on everyone's heads.

"Well, anyways, everyone come here, I've got gifts for you all!" Motoko called out, opening her luggage and pulling out several packages.

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Some time later, while Shinobu prepared lunch, the residents of the Hinata House got down to some catching up.

"So, Motoko, what happened? I thought you were staying in Kyoto with your family as head of the Shinmei school? What brings you back here?" Kitsune asked. "Aren't things going well?"

Motoko shook her head, smiling. "Things are going just fine. While my sister can still best me in the sword, I can certainly beat her in a contest of intelligence now. I feel wonderful, having the best of both worlds with my sword and my schooling."

"How about your writing…?" Kitsune asked, with a mischievous glint in her eye. She was already buzzed, having brought out several bottles of sake to celebrate Motoko's return.

Blushing, Motoko stammered "K-kitsune, I thought we weren't going to talk about that?"

"Aw come on, everyone here knows about it, hon!" And indeed, from Mutsumi's smile behind her hand to Kanako's glare over the subject matter, everyone had an expression written on their faces that clearly showed they knew. Even Tama looked suspiciously like she was grinning, and made a point of flying over to Motoko, who swatted at her until she went away.

"Well, the… novels…," Motoko mumbled.

"Romance novels!" Kitsune triumphantly declared, grinning the whole time. "Most of them about a lovelorn female warrior on a search for true love! Though ya know, I've noticed a little pattern going with the people your main characters wind up getting together with. Aren't they a little... similar?" Looking around the room, Motoko quickly realized that the fox girl was hardly the only one to have seen this accidental trend. Su and Sarah were both grinning like demons, Shinobu was looking a little twitchy, and Kanako... well, Motoko decided that tonight she'd make sure she kept her sword by her bed.

Motoko coughed, trying to remain serious despite her beet red face. "Ahem, yes, those novels. Fictional novels. About people who don't exist in reality. At all. They are going well. As I'm sure you all know, though, that's no my main venue, more of a hobby on the side. In fact, I finished that particular series a year or so after Keitaro and Naru married." Ignoring Kitsune's downcast expression at being deprived of her mischief, Motoko went on. "I've written several series, and my publisher is very interested in my latest. Fortunately, my sister and mother are willing to help enough with the Shinmei school at home that I can focus on my writing when I need to from time to time. But enough about me, what about the rest of you? How has everything been going here?"

The conversation then took on more normal tones, and the good-hearted chatter continued for several hours. Some time around noon Shinobu got up and began making lunch. The conversation was just dying down when the phone rang, and Kitsune got up to answer it. Halfway to the phone, though, she realized the cordless was missing from its base. Then the phone stopped ringing. In the following quiet, Shinobu could be heard in the kitchen.

"Seta-san?" She said.

"Hey, my dad's on the phone!" shouted Sara, scrambling for the next nearest one. Kitsune grabbed her by the back of the shirt and pulled her back, shushing her.

In the kitchen, there was a pause followed by Shinobu blurting out, "what! Sempai!" Instantly, everyone in the living room poured into the kitchen. Shinobu's voice disappeared in the cacophony that followed, and by the time they all managed to get into the small room she was hanging up the phone. She turned, and they saw that she was pale.

"What's going on? Are Keitaro and Naru coming back?"

"Yay! Keitaro!"

"Alright, Dad and the dork're coming back! Someone to pummel!"

"Oh my, is Kei-kun returning?"

Slowly, Shinobu shook her head. "No, I mean, yes, sempai is returning tomorrow, but… Naru-sempai isn't! And Sempai's hurt! Seta-san said he'd tell us when he got here…" She trailed off, clearly worried. Everyone went quiet, until Kitsune reached over and ruffled Shinobu's hair.

"Don't worry about that guy, he's got the whole invincibility thing going, remember? He'll be fine. I can't be much worse than the time that giant onion fell on him. And Naru's probably just off in a huff somewhere because he did something stupid again." Everyone laughed, and the tension left the room. They all left, chattering happily about Keitaro and what things would be like with him back. Shinobu turned back to her cooking, but her heart just wasn't in it. Finally, with everyone gone, she quietly gave voice to her worry.

"I've never heard Seta-san sound so concerned before, though…"

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As they left the kitchen, Kitsune made a beeline for her room. Motoko followed, and caught her wrist in the hallway.

"You're worried, aren't you?" asked the sword master, though it sounded more like a statement than a question. Kitsune turned around, and nodded, her normally half-closed eyes fully open. "Me too," said Motoko, "I have a bad feeling about this. We should be prepared for the worst, and see to it that everyone else is too."

"Nah, I don't think we should worry them with this. It's probably just the two of us overreacting, and if it is bad news, we can help comfort the others. Don't spoil their mood, ok? They're happy you're here, so let them celebrate while they can." The fox smiled and turned back towards her room.

"You've grown a lot more mature, Kitsune-chan!" Motoko called after her. Kitsune paused a moment, then walked the rest of the way into her room, closing the door after her. Standing a moment, Motoko heard a drawer opened, followed by the glugging of a bottle pouring out sake. Sighing, she turned and went back to the living room, unable to shake the feeling that something terrible had happened, and that the Hinata House would be feeling its effects soon.

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The following day, Seta and Haruka arrived, supporting Keitaro who had insisted he walk rather than be put in a wheelchair. And indeed, it seemed as though he was returning swiftly to health, his usual immortality asserting itself once again. Still, his tired, defeated walk belied his robust nature, and the residents at the Hinata House instantly guessed something was wrong.

"How much you wanna bet she got pissed and ditched him again?" Kitsune asked from the base of the stairs, watching the trio approach. It was raining lightly, and she along with the rest of the girls had an umbrella opened over her head.

Sara grinned, saying, "loser got dumped!"

Kanako remained serious. "It was bound to happen," she said, "their relationship just wasn't stable. She didn't really love him." Her lips turned upwards smugly at this last statement.

The others all smiled and nodded at the lighthearted predictions, knowing well how many times Naru had gotten upset with Keitaro over some moronic little thing and either run off in a huff or sent him on a one way trip to the stratosphere, only to have come running back as soon as someone else got too close or to have him return via the gravity express. Only Motoko was still worried. She had seen the look Keitaro was wearing before... but not here in Hinata. She couldn't place it, though.

Finally, the three returning travelers reached the steps. "Hiya, Keitaro!" yelled Su, jumping onto Keitaro and wrapping her legs around his waist, as A.D.D. as ever. "Whatcha bring me?"

"Myu!" added Tama, flying circles around Keitaro's head.

Startled out of some ruminations, Keitaro looked up and then around behind him at Su. "Oh, Su-chan, sorry..." he said, the brittle brightness in his voice struggling to survive. "I was very... busy this last trip. I wasn't able to bring anything back." He turned his head to look back at the rest of the girls. "Sorry, everyone."

"I-it's alright, Sempai," quavered Shinobu, clearly able to tell something was very wrong. Mistakenly, she followed Kitsune's assumption, saying, "We're sure it must be very difficult..."

Again, Keitaro looked startled out of some thought, then his eyes went unfocused and he said "Yes, it is..."

_He's got it bad..._ thought Kitsune.

"Oh dear," Mutsumi murmured, leaning over to Kitsune. "Do you think Kei-kun is all right?"

"He'll be fine," she replied, "let's just get everyone inside. Alright everyone!" she cried, "how about we go up to the house for some of Shinobu's great cooking and some sake to welcome back our old kanrinrin!"

Everyone cheered, and raced up the stairs, pulling a confused-looking Keitaro behind. Haruka and Seta glanced at each other, and followed. As they reached the top of the steps, Keitaro finally broke free of their grasp, staring up at the dormitory as though he had never seen it before. All the others except Motoko kept running. One by one they slowed and looked behind them, watching Keitaro as he stood in a trance. Suddenly, Motoko knew where she had seen that expression.

"I can't..." he whispered. Then louder, his voice hoarse and cracking, "I can't stay here."

"Aw, come on, Keitaro. I know she's gone now, but she'll be back and the-" Kitsune began, but was cut off by Motoko, who held out her hand to stop her, watching Keitaro the whole time. She had seen that expression before in Kyoto, when some of her father's old friends had visited. They were all warriors, many of whom had seen comrades die in battle. One night she had secretly watched as they drank and talked late into the night, recounting old war stories. When they began to talk about friends they had known and loved who had fallen to a bullet or a sword, their eyes had gotten distant, and their faces wore the same expression as Keitaro's did now.

Suddenly, several seconds after Kitsune spoke, Keitaro looked straight at her, saying, "he didn't tell you? Seta-san didn't tell you?"

Seta, who had been standing behind him for some time, said grimly, "I thought it best that you tell them."

There was a moment of silence, and then Shinobu's voice spoke up out of the stunned crowd. "T-tell us what, Sempai?" Motoko watched Keitaro's face go blank in the most horrible manner, and knew what was going to come next. It was still a shock, though when Keitaro actually spoke the words, staring blankly ahead of him, the blood having drained from his face.

"Naru isn't coming back," he said calmly, almost as though he didn't believe the words himself. "She's dead."

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The stunned residents of Hinata House sat in another meeting, this one much more solemn, in the living room. Keitaro had refused to answer any questions, just asking to be alone for a time. He then went off, accompanied by Seta, to find a nearby apartment where he could stay. Haruka, the only one who had had time to accept the news, explained what had happened. The phone call, the flight to the villiage, and airlifting Keitaro to the hospital.

She said that later, Keitaro refused to talk about how she died, but he did mention something about the "Hall of the Phoenix." And in his sleep, she said, he would toss and turn, alternately shouting out "Naru!" and another name, "Kurosawa!" Asking around, though, she couldn't find anything out about anyone named Kurosawa. She had gotten a number of terrified looks, but no information or descriptions. People had just refused to talk about him, except for one old woman who said that while she sympathized, the best thing Haruka could do would be to completely forget she had ever heard anything about that man on that island.

"It looks like Keitaro has continued to follow Seta's path, running into bad situations on accident..." Haruka said, trailing off in contemplation. "I don't know why those two seem to attract so much trouble, but-" Her words were suddenly cut off by a furious scream.

"How can you just be so damn calm about it!" shrieked Kitsune, her perpetual buzz proving incapable of shielding her from the reality of her best friend's death. "Naru is fucking dead, and you're just standing there casually like you're chatting about the weather! How can you be that way!..." Finally breaking off into sobs, Kitsune strode off to get another bottle of sake to try and dull the pain.

Su and Sara just sat glumly, clearly disturbed by Kitsune's outburst, trying to accustom themselves to the idea that Naru would never be coming back. Ema, who had never really known Naru very well except on her occasional visits to Hinata House, was busily trying to comfort everyone, particularly Shinobu who was completely despondent and couldn't even bring herself to cook. Even Mutsumi's eternally cheerful facade was showing signs of stress. She went to get some watermelon for everyone, and came back without dropping anything, forgetting anything, or having a near-death experience.

"I'm terribly worried about Kei-kun," she said. "Should we really be leaving him alone at a time like this?"

The others paused momentarily in their misery and thought, _it must be hardest of all on him... and we're sitting here moping while he goes out and finds a place to stay alone..._ They looked at each other. _And we all used to say we loved him._ They looked away. _We are such heels..._

An hour later, when Seta returned, they asked him where Keitaro was staying. As Seta gave them the apartment complex and room number, he smiled and said, "It's good that you're going to keep him company. He's really down right now." They rushed out into the rain, and as Seta watched them go, his smile faded and his face suddenly looked more like its real age rather than the fresh-faced twenty it normally looked. "I certainly don't blame him..." he said quietly to the empty front hall. Haruka came up behind him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Don't worry about all of this for now... Keitaro's in the best of hands, we came to terms with the fact that Naru is... gone while Keitaro was still in the hospital... let's just take some well-earned rest and leave it to Keitaro and the girls now, ok?" Seta turned his head and the next kiss was planted on his lips.

"All right," he said, after they broke off the kiss. "All right."

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The girls arrived at Keitaro's apartment together. After a moment of fighting, Shinobu was finally selected to knock. When Keitaro came to the door, she bowed and presented the covered bowl she carried with her. "Sempai, I prepared you some dinner. W-would you mind if we all ate together, here? W-w-we've been... well, about N-N-Naru-sempai..." She trailed off and looked up, tears trailing from her eyes. The others wiped at their eyes as well, and looked expectantly at Keitaro, holding their own, smaller covered bowls and drinks, including, in Kitsune's case, a couple of large bottles of sake.

For a moment, Keitaro just stared at them as he had stared at Hinata House earlier that day. Then, a wan smile slowly spread across his face. "Of course," he said hoarsely, overcome by emotion, "please, come in."

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Dinner was a solemn affair, accompanied by some forced talk, but mostly completed in silence except for the clinking of chopsticks on bowls. They seemed to huddle miserably, simply drawing comfort from the presence of their fellow mourners. Finally, everyone readied their things to leave, except Kanako who pulled out a futon, apparently from nowhere, and unrolled it in the corner. Everyone stared for a second, until Kitsune, rather drunk, slurred "Wha the Hell d'ya think you're doin, missy?"

"Keeping oniichan company, of course," she replied. "I'm not letting him sleep here alone after such a tragedy." Her tone seemed to suggest that, tragic though Naru's untimely demise was, it was somewhat less tragic for her than for her brother. Suddenly, there was a quick volley of excuses let out rapid-fire and the Hinata House residents all bolted back to the dorm.

By the time they had returned, Keitaro was just finishing getting ready for bed, his futon and Kanako's laid out in the middle of the room next to one another. A few minutes later, the floor of the small apartment was covered in futons, with Motoko being assigned on Keitaro's other side as the only one who would stand a chance at stopping the goth girl should she decide to try something. The others were all clustered as close as possible to Keitaro's sleeping form without actually seeming like they intentionally got that close. Only Kitsune, Shinobu, and Mutsumi refrained from what Kitsune called the "disgustin' display," having had the closest relationships with Naru. They positioned themselves nearer the door in a row, and stayed in their own tight cluster the night through.

The night passed uneventfully, except that when morning came, Su was found clinging to Keitaro's left leg, which was still better than the nightly acrobatics of her childhood years. Also, Shinobu was found missing, but when after a few worried minutes she came back driven by Seta, who had loaded up his van with the breakfast she cooked (put in tightly sealed bowls to protect it from his driving), everyone was happy.

After breakfast, everyone dispersed for the day, Su, Shinobu, and Mutsumi having missed enough class with Motoko and Keitaro's return, and Kanako and Kitsune needing to keep the inn in shape. Ema and Sara, who had unexpectedly become friends in their years together at Hinata House, went to class as well. Only Motoko was left without something to do, but rather than stay and bother Keitaro, she decided to leave him alone and return to Hinata House with the others.

Alone, in his apartment room, Keitaro sat for a while staring at the wall. He thought of the girls from Hinata, and of their kindness, smiling as he did so. Then, his thoughts turned to all the other kindnesses they had showed him... together with Naru. His smile disappeared. Then he got up, pushed aside his futon, and began going through the slow motions of the warm-up martial arts forms Seta had taught him several years and a lifetime ago.

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Aaaaand that's it for chapter two, folks! Hope you liked it better than the first... I think that by going slower and taking my time more with the plot in this one, things were a little more realistic-feeling. But please, don't let me do all the critiquing (sp?) myself! Please, send more reviews! I'm still open to all your constructive criticism and what little praise you may have for me, so go ahead and drop me a review or a direct mail to Vagonnoth at hotmail dot com. (Gah! stupid document editor still driving me nuts... when I write the address normally, it just leaves a blank space. Does anyone out there know why?) Thanks for your time!


	3. Reminiscence

All right! Time for the third installment! I'm discovering that writing involved fanfiction like this is actually harder than it seems... Also, my brainchild isn't getting as many hits, or at least reviews, as I'd hoped it would, so perhaps I'll change the summary to something a little more exciting... Anyways, again I need to say I don't own Love Hina and am not inventing a secret plot to do away with Ken Akamatsu and steal his wonderful work... steeples fingers and says "ex-cellent..." For something like the twentieth time, I need some good, constructive criticism people! Please, send me whatever you have to say, provided it's nothing too virulent and angry for my mistreatment of the characters and/or series. And, last but not least, thank you for taking the time to read my pitiful first work.

Thanks,

Vagonnoth

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Chapter 3: Reminiscence

**Hinatasou, 4:46 A.M.**

Breathing lightly, a figure in hakama and gi ran through the streets of Hinata by streetlight. As it passed under a light, it turned out to be Motoko, out on a morning run. She had been lax with her training of late and the news of Naru's death still made sleep elusive. So, she had woken up this morning well before anyone else in the dormitory and gone out in the hope that muscular fatigue would help drive away the gloom that hung over both her and the other residents.

As she quickly sped through another intersection, her thoughts turned to Keitaro. He still hadn't been able to come into Hinata House for a visit, though he had arrived three days ago. Shinobu, who had brought him dinner last night, and intended to every evening, said that he looked even more tired than when he had arrived,

Unthinkingly, she turned the corner that would lead her to his apartment.

Shinobu also said that when she had arrived, he had been breathing heavily and holding his shoulder. Worried, she had asked him what was wrong, but he just smiled at her and said that he had just been exercising and not to worry. Everyone had seen his condition and agreed it wasn't intelligent for him to be exercising at this point in his recovery, but there was nothing they could do for their former kanrinrin as long as he was staying in the apartment alone.

"Hai!" said a voice in front of Motoko, speaking clearly but quietly. Startled, she stopped and looked ahead, and saw that she had arrived at Keitaro's apartment, though she had not intended to run the route when she started off that morning. Wondering who would be up and about at this hour, she quieted her breathing and crept forward. Further noises came from the side of the apartment, and Motoko realized it sounded like someone performing some form of martial arts. Still cautious, she walked closer and looked around the corner. There, in the empty, grassy spot next to the apartment building was someone wearing a old t-shirt and jeans, punching and kicking into the air, punctuating his actions with soft hai's and sharp exhalations. As he turned, she caught a glimpse of his face and realized it was Keitaro.

Spellbound, she watched as he went through the motions of the art taught him by Seta, and realized just how good he was. And how weak, as well. He was breathing heavily and sweating, despite the mild autumn night air. Even as she watched, his movements grew slower and his breathing more labored. Her heart went out to him, and she wondered what could possibly make someone as ill as he clearly was practice so hard. Wanting to get him to stop, and to calm him, she began to take a step forward.

Suddenly, an image of Naru appeared in her mind. _She should be here comforting him, not me..._ she thought. Caught by this image, she shook herself and turned sharply, preparing to leave, when the swishes of his movements suddenly stopped. After a moment's internal conflict, with her heart racing, she turned and looked back into the grassy area.

Keitaro was lying on the ground, clutching his chest, staring at it as though amazed. He tried to stand, staggered, and supported himself on a nearby tree. He turned, allowing the light to fall on him so he could see better. Motoko started and almost gasped as she saw the red stain growing on the right side of his shirt. Clutching his chest with one arm, supporting himself agains the side of the apartment with the other, he tried walking around to the stairs. Suddenly, his arm gave out and he fell over in the grass. Unable to restrain herself any longer, she ran out of concealment, calling to him.

"Urashima!" she cried, kneeling next to him. "What's wrong?" Struggling to rise, Keitaro looked up at her.

"Motoko-san... I think... I may have opened it again..." With these words and a smile, his eyes closed and he collapsed. Quickly, Motoko gathered up his unconscious form, focusing on the task at hand. Quickly, she carries him up the stairs to his room, noticing how light he was. Once in the room, she took off his shirt to inspect the damage. What she saw made her gasp. The bandage he wore over his chest was soaked through, as was the one on his left shoulder. Gently, she peeled off the bandages and saw the bullet wounds beneath. Immediately, she did a quick search of the apartment, finding a roll of bandages in the closet, evidently provided by the hospital. Returning to Keitaro, she did her best to bind his wounds tightly, seeking more to slow the flow of blood than anything. Then, knowing his apartment had no phone and that the doctor's was only a few blocks away, she ran out the door.

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**Hinata Hospital, 11:56 A.M.**

When Keitaro came to, he was lying in a hospital bed once more. For a moment, he was unsure as to whether he had ever actually been back to Hinata. However, when he looked across the room he saw Motoko, still with his blood on the sleeves of her gi, sleeping upright in a chair. His doubts erased, he smiled and closed his eyes once more.

Some hours later, he woke to find Motoko had left the room. After a few minutes, though, she returned trailing a nurse. They both looked surprised to see him awake, and he smiled. Motoko smiled back, though the nurse remained stern, approaching his bed almost angrily.

"Mr. Urashima," she said in an irritated voice, "I believe that when you were discharged from the hospital in..." She checked her clipboard, "Shinimalus, they warned you very firmly against any further strenuous exercise for a minimum period of six weeks?" Her tone suggested that it was less a belief than a certainty, and that she was reminding him of this.

"Y-yes, I'm sure they did," he answered, not that he had much choice.

"Well then, might I ask what you thought you were doing when you were, as the young lady said, practicing **martial arts**?" She asked, saying the words like they were a disease.

Looking away, Keitaro's expression grew far away, and faintly angry. "I'm sorry," he replied, "it won't happen again."

The nurse snorted, looking down at her clipboard again. "Look, Mr. Urashima, this is the second time this has happened, the first while you were still hospitalized in Shinimalus! I am telling you now, we will not allow any more of this to take place, now that you are within our care." She looked very agitated, and seemed as if she was going to say something more until Keitaro turned his head and looked directly at her. Still flustered, but unable to say anything in the face of his expression, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room.

Keitaro sighed and rested his head back down on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. He heard a chair being pulled up, and looked over to see Motoko at his bedside.

She smiled. "The others have all been in to see you. I went up to the dormitory to let them all know what had happened after the local doctor and I dropped you off here," she told him. "They're all very concerned. I'm afraid Su, Shinobu, and the others will not be able to focus well at school today. Kitsune grew tired of waiting for you to regain consciousness, and besides, she still has much work to do in the teahouse. Kanako wanted to stay, but after the nurse caught her falling asleep on your bed, she was asked to go home. We all decided that there should be at least one person here in case you woke up, and I was the only one who has nothing to do here in Hinata, so here I am." She smiled again, almost apologetically.

Keitaro continued staring off into space for a while, and she let him have his peace. Finally, though, she couldn't wait any longer and she asked the question she had been waiting to ask the whole time Keitaro was unconscious.

"Urashima, why were you training so hard at that time of the morning when you were so weak? If I hadn't come along on my morning run, you might have had serious problems. What drove you to do such a thing?"

Keitaro continued to stare at the ceiling. After a few moments, when it seemed as though he wouldn't reply, Motoko got up, deciding to leave him alone. As she turned away, though, he spoke. She turned around, returned to her chair, and listened to him tell his story.

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The marriage had been wonderful, he told her. The periods of separation when he would go on digs were difficult, but sometimes the dig was near enough to civilization that she would be able to accompany him, and when she couldn't, he made a point of coming back for regular visits and finishing the expedition as quickly as possible. On one expedition, though, he was far away from civilization in a dangerous region of jungle, and he refused to let her accompany him. At first, things went well. They were well-funded, and the trip began on a good note, the team finding a number of statues clearly belonging to the phoenix-worshipping civilization that had lived in the area centuries ago. Then, one day, they had a visitor to their campsite.

That was his first encounter with Kurosawa.

The stranger had seemed interested in the work they were doing, he said. Who made the ruins? What were they like? What had the team found so far? The man seemed harmless enough, just another explorer passing through this relatively uncharted territory. He was very polite and seemed quite knowledgeable of the area. He stayed with them for a few days, and in the end decided to travel with them as they searched the area for more phoenix ruins. Little did he know that this was Kurosawa's original plan, no, his orders.

Over the next few days, they found several traces of the ancient civilization, but nothing significant. Finally, on the fourth day after Kurosawa had joined them, the seventh of the expedition, they found what appeared to be the remnants of a temple, have reclaimed by the jungle! Keitaro had been terribly excited, this being the largest and most important find yet.

The most intriguing thing about the phoenix civilization, gleaned from the few stone tablets that had been found in the jungles, was that they believed they had found a way for one to rise like their god, the phoenix, from the dead. Their temples, naturally, were the places where the ritual to do this had been accomplished, though the knowledge of just how to do it was said to be recorded only in the main temple of their religion, in their capital city, which no one had been able to locate.

Inside the temple they found little, most of the original content having been ransacked by looters years ago. This ruin was still relatively near the edge of the jungle, so it was fairly accessible to simple thieves willing to risk the occasional poisonous serpent or vicious booby trap in their quest for riches.

Still, within the ruins, they found two artifacts of significance, apparently left behind simply because the thieves didn't know their worth: a strangely shaped stone, carved with some indecipherable script over which was drawn the symbol of a phoenix rising, and a sacrificial knife of bone and granite. The knife was particularly significant, because granite was impossible to find on Shinimalus, which provided evidence for a trading society, rather than an isolated, minor civilization. If only he had known how much more valuable the stone was...

That night, Keitaro had woken sensing a problem. Things were too quiet. Picking up his whip and a pistol, he left his tent, creeping into the clearing that served as the center of the expedition's camp. Instantly, he realized that the fire had burned to just embers, which should not have happened with a man on watch. Walking to the next tent over, he nearly tripped over one of the other men, or what was left of him. His gun lay next to his hand, which was almost entirely severed from the arm. His throat had been slashed open, his eyes wide in disbelief and misted in death.

Suddenly sensing a spike of ki, Keitaro looked around. Then, he heard a choking noise from the anthropologist's tent. Rushing over, he reached it too late. Lying in his hammock, the scientist had his throat sliced as well, apparently through the mosquito net that surrounded his freshly dead form. Standing hunched over the late researcher's small, foldable table, a huge form rifled through his papers before stuffing them in a manila envelope and pushing them into a pocket in his trenchcoat. Turning, his face was illuminated by the light of the electric lantern, revealing him to be none other than Kurosawa.

Cursing, Keitaro held out the gun, aiming it directly at the man's heart. "What are you doing?" he spat, wishing he could simply kill the man where he stood. Kurosawa stood up, unfolding himself to his full height, which was barely accommodated by the small tent.

Smiling, he said, "Urashima, Mr. Expedition Leader, just the person I wanted... Tell me and things will go easier on you. What have you done with the artifacts from the temple?" He took a step towards Keitaro, evidently unconcerned by the gun.

"One more step and you're dead, Kurosawa!" Keitaro screamed back at him, "I have two good friends dead, and I don't have the patience for this crap. Why did you do it?"

Pausing in his step, Kurosawa looked at Keitaro for a moment. Then, he began to giggle. Suddenly, he broke into full blown maniacal laughter, throwing his head back as though he wanted it to travel as far as possible. Then he looked back down at Keitaro, expression serious, and asked him one more time. "Where are the artifacts?"

"You bastard," Keitaro answered, "you didn't come to my tent while I slept like the others, so unfortunately for you, you never got the artifacts. What is this, some competing expedition?" Pausing, he shook his head and said, "never mind, it doesn't matter anymore. This is the end of the line for you." Eyes narrowing, he fired.

And missed.

Eyes widening in horror, Keitaro watched Kurosawa's form blur as he feinted and threw himself forward and to the side. Keitaro squeezed off another shot before Kurosawa hit him. He had just enough time to wish he had grabbed his machete instead of his whip before the six-foot-eight monstrosity was in front of him. He felt a blow on the side of his head, and everything went black.

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When he woke, Keitaro first thought he was lying in his hammock back at camp. After a moment, though, it occurred to him that he was lying somewhat flatter than he would in a hammock, and that when he shifted there was none of the swaying he had grown accustomed to. Suddenly coming to full consciousness, he tried to get up. When he couldn't, he turned his head to see that the rope around his wrists was not that of a hammock, as he had previously assumed. He was lying on a small, rather uncomfortable army cot, his wrists and ankles bound to the frame. Twisting his hands and feet around, he quickly discovered that whoever had tied him down, they had probably earned all their knot-tying badges in boyscouts. Hell, he decided after a few more minutes of wriggling, they had probably taught the people handing out the damn badges.

As he struggled hopelessly with his bindings, he heard a female voice above him at the head of the cot speak. "That's going to get you nowhere fast, you know," the mystery voice informed him smugly in a light, European sounding accent he couldn't place. "Kurosawa is skilled at a lot of things, though, admittedly, most of them are related to violence..." The presumed woman that owned the voice sighed, as though this state of affairs was necessary, but still distasteful. "I really would like to untie you, you know, but I know that you'll try to escape, and Kurosawa has informed me that you seem to be somewhat skilled in the martial arts, so that could really provide us with too much difficulty to make it worth it. However, Kurosawa has also told me that you are a man of your word, and so I might be persuaded to let you up if you promise not to try to leave without my permission."

After a moment's internal debate, Keitaro realized he didn't really have much of an alternative and decided to acquiesce. "Very well," he said, "I promise not to leave without your permission. Now, will you please release me? I don't think it's good that my fingers are blue and I can't feel my feet." This last statement accompanied by a bitter tone.

Getting up, the woman circled around to the side of the cot and began to untie the ropes. "Really," she said in an exasperated tone of voice,"You'd think even someone as vicious as Kurosawa could understand the meaning of the words 'without unnecessary discomfort.'" Having released his left hand, she moved around the cot and began working on his right. "I do apologize for having to do this... I'm sure you can understand the necessity, though."

As the woman continued to talk pleasantly, Keitaro took the opportunity to observe his captor. Even though she was kneeling, he could easily tell she was taller than he was. She was very beautiful, with smooth, ivory skin and perfect nails that she somehow managed to keep from damaging as she untied the heavy ropes. As she stood up, he could see her dark hair cascaded down her back in waves, shining in the sunlight coming in through the tent flaps. She wore a forest green dress that seemed as out of place in the dim, dirty tent as a bird of paradise in the streets of downtown Tokyo. It glittered, and upon closer observation, Keitaro saw that it was studded with gems. She also wore a simple golden chain about her neck, on the end of which hung a diamond that might have bought a nice Lamborghini and maybe a few extras, such as a custom sound-system and ground effects.

By the time he had assimilated this information, the feeling was returning to his fingers and the woman had reached his left foot. Finally released, Keitaro attempted to stand, but discovered quickly that his feet weren't up to the task.

"You should take it easy," the woman said. "After all, you aren't going anywhere for a while, right?"

"Who are you?" Keitaro asked bluntly, "and why did you have to kill the other members of my team? You could have just taken the artifact and left." The anger burning in his eyes was unmistakable.

For a moment, the woman looked surprised, and then she sighed, shaking her head. "I should have known that was what Kurosawa meant when he said not to worry about your disappearance being reported... He does enjoy his work so much..." Looking up, she gave him a sad smile. "I'm terribly sorry that happened. I'll be sure to... discipline him. I know I didn't specify not to kill anyone in the orders, but we really do have to try harder to keep a low profile, and his actions just aren't helping that." Then she stopped, looking like she had just realized something. "Oh, I haven't introduced myself, have I? My name is Anwen, Anwen Rhys," she said, the strange, foreign syllables falling easily into place with a musical lilt. "I'm what you might call the sponsor of our little group, the Heralds of the Truth."

For a moment, Keitaro was shocked that she could take the news of his friends' deaths so lightly. Then, realizing he wasn't going to get any emotional response from this person, he changed his question. "What was so important about the artifacts, then? Why did you need them so badly that you couldn't just borrow them or purchase them from our sponsor?"

Anwen smiled knowingly. "Ah, now that is an interesting story. Can you walk yet?" She reached out a hand to help him to his feet. Once the bewildered archeologist had made it onto his feet, she turned, leading him out into the sunlight. Stumbling on his still aching feet, he followed.

Once outside, Keitaro could see that this was no small jungle camp like the one he had come from. The space around them had been cleared very recently of foliage, and was filled with tents. Armed guards stood about, and a helicopter rested in its own open space off to the right. The center was dominated by a tent that looked more like a circus big top. It was this tent that they were heading towards, though Keitaro made a mental note of the helicopter's location, just in case.

"Here, you will see the fruits of our labors involving the phoenix religion," she announced, striding ahead into the well-lit tent. Inside was something that came as quite a shock to Keitaro, who had formerly thought himself one of the few academics who even knew of this idiosyncratic civilization.

Portable computer banks formed a central computational area, where a number of casually dressed individuals worked feverishly hunched over their monitors. Around the sides of the tent was a loose circle of tables at which more formal, labcoated individuals were carefully piecing together bits and pieces of artifacts and tablets. It was a full-scale research station in the middle of the jungle. Despite himself, Keitaro was impressed. As they approached the computer banks, Anwen began to explain.

"The Heralds of the Truth have long been interested in finding the truth of this world and the next and revealing it to the unwashed masses." She leaned over conspiratorially and said, in a lower voice, "frankly, I just needed a stooge organization, and these silly little religious terrorists were the most easily available." Once again shocked at her total lack of compassion, Keitaro missed a step, stumbled, and had to stagger quickly to catch up with her.

When he was once more walking unsteadily next to her, she gestured around the room. "Here, as I'm sure you can tell, we "process" collected artifacts, discarding what is too damaged to be used, and piecing together what we can." She shrugged, an indifferent motion. "That is the boring part. What I wanted to show you was this." By now they had reached the central computer banks.

"As I'm sure you know, the phoenix civilization was based around a religion that had claimed to find a way to bring certain fortunate people back, like the phoenix, from the dead. Most people put it down as folk lore, myth, legend. However, we have reason to believe it wasn't as far from the truth as it seems. Some years ago, I was researching ancient civilizations, and came across an obscure report on the phoenix religion written by a German explorer, Franz Mehlinger." She paused, glancing over at Keitaro as if to judge how much he knew about the subject. Not seeing any hint of recognition, she looked back to the computers and began once more to speak.

"As I perused his work, a photograph fell out of the pages. It was a picture of a tablet, similar in a way to the Rosetta stone, except that it was much smaller, and that the message on it was written in Pararakelsian, Sanscrit, and, most importantly, the unnamed language of the phoenix civilization. We call it Feuervogelian in honor of Mehlinger's own nationality, Vogelian for short. Anyways, because Mehlinger sadly passed away as a result of forgetting to check his boots one morning on his expedition, his remarkable finding never got published, and was simply stored away in the vault of the local university here on Shinimalus."

When I discovered this, I knew that my quest had begun." She stepped forward, pulling the spellbound Keitaro with her, and gestured to the computer screens. "As you can tell, the fragmentary message on Mehlinger's tablet was far to small to give an accurate idea of the language... and Pararakelsian is such a simple, underdeveloped language that it makes a poor source of information on structure, so we have been forced to use the latest computational algorithms to discover what these words on the temple artifacts mean. What we have been able to discover is remarkable." She turned fully and looked at him, a smug smile on her lips.

"It seems that the Freuervogelians," she said, savoring the word as though she enjoyed the sound of her own ingenuity, "had found a way to raise the dead! Though, not perfectly. Not all were able to complete the return, and those that could had only a limited time. One other thing still mystifies us, though. There is mention of something that makes this reincarnation a mere ghost of that of the phoenix... Some way in which it is inferior. Wherever we look, we read something about the phoenix taking something as a toll for a taste of its immortality. But what, we are unable to figure out. And how the return is inferior, we can't find either. Soon, though, we hope to have all the answers." She smiled, clearly proud of her achievements.

Keitaro was unable to help himself. He was terribly impressed by all this, the findings, the possibility of immortality... it was like an explorer's dream! As though sensing his thoughts, Anwen turned around. "I'm extending this offer to you simply because you seem one of the more knowledgeable people around on this particular subject, and you have a... knack for finding artifacts, especially of the kind we need." She smiled at him, trying to charm him. "I know that someone with your brain and... talent, wouldn't be able to pass this up. So... will you come with us? Will you help us find the secrets of the phoenix civilization?"

For a moment, Keitaro was tempted. Then a voice of reason sounded out in his mind: _There's something she's not telling you. What makes this so important that she's willing to kill and steal to get it? _This though stopped him cold, and he realized what a dangerous situation he was in once more. _I have to get out of here..._ he thought. _It should be fairly easy... but I can't break my word!_ Then, a thought struck him. He crossed his arms across his chest, stepping nearer to the computer. Then, he looked up at Anwen, not surprised to see a couple of rather heavyset men flanking her. They were dressed in labcoats, but Keitaro somehow doubted either one of them did much of the fine motor skills work that was occupying the other scientists. At least, not unless those ham-fingers were a lot more versatile than they looked. He looked up at Anwen, smiled and said "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't do that. I just can't work with a murderer. In fact, I think I'd like to escape now."

Anwen looked down at him and smiled. "And I think I'd like to see you do that," she said, not realizing she had just given him his permission. Normally, Keitaro wouldn't break his word on such a flimsy slip up, but he decided that the situation was such that he could ignore such niceties. Not even bothering to respond, knowing it would waste time, he picked up the keyboard from the desk next to him, ripping it out of the back of the computer and swinging it in an arc at the first goon's head. Knowing it wouldn't slow the thug down much, he reached down and in one fluid movement struck the man's wrist, forcing him to release the tazer he had been about to thrust at Keitaro. Catching the tazer, Keitaro wrapped the thug's arm behind his back, jabbed the tazer against his spine, and threw him forward into Anwen.

Or at least, where Anwen should have been.

Realizing she had disappeared, Keitaro turned to his left and saw her raising her hand as though to throw something. He saw a glint of steel in her hand. "All right, Urashima," she said in a calm, reassuring voice. "These darts have a nasty poison in them, and though it shouldn't kill you, you don't want me to have to use them... now, just put the tazer down..." She continued in that soothing voice of hers, telling him to simply give up.

Suddenly, her eyes flickered a little to Keitaro's right shoulder. Realizing what was happening, he feinted right, then stepped left as the second goon behind him lunged with his own stun device. In one fluid motion, Keitaro grabbed the now off-balance thug's left arm and swept him in front of him, just in time to intercept Anwen's darts. He wasn't quite fast enough, though, and one dart grazed his elbow. Thrusting the man at Anwen, he quickly turned and ran out to his right, grabbing another keyboard as he went. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Anwen lining up another shot. Spinning quickly, he held the keyboard out in front of him as she released, intercepting two darts. The third whizzed harmlessly past him and struck one of the scientists trying to cut off his escape route. Turning again, he blasted his way through the three remaining scientists in his way, ducking out under the edge of the tent and bursting into the clearing. The sentry at the edge of the jungle nearest him was caught completely off guard, expecting an attack from outside, not within. Keitaro dispatched him with the taser easily, fighting off a brief wave of dizziness as the poison that had entered him through his elbow reached the heart. Refusing to succumb, he rushed off into the jungle, bullets whizzing past him as he ran.

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The next week was one of the most enjoyable of his entire life. Full of attacks, battles, near-death encounters, and flat-out sprinting for his life through more unexplored territory than he could have possibly imagined existed on such a small island, Keitaro felt more alive than ever before. For some reason, he told Motoko, you're never as alive as when you almost aren't. He thought he was finally really getting a glimpse of the world through Seta's eyes. No wonder he was so happy when exploring! It was as though Keitaro's invulnerability was an indication that here was what he was supposed to be doing! This was how he was supposed to live his life!

Eventually, Keitaro escaped the jungle after a fateful encounter in which he tricked Kurosawa into a river of hungry crocodiles and destroyed the greater part of Anwen's organization. Upon his return, Naru first sent him into low earth orbit for being gone so long, then declared he was never going on an expedition without her again.

That was where the trouble started. Naru was, at heart, a city girl. When Keitaro went on a series of smaller expeditions to drum up enough interest to get a sponsor for his greatest expedition yet, a search for the great phoenix civilization citadel, she was true to her word and came. However, she didn't take well to the expedition life, and on more than one occasion left for a time to recover in the nearest bit of civilization to the dig.

Still, things went well, and Keitaro was able to get his sponsor and his expedition. However, as fate would have it, Anwen once more attacked his camp, this time with her new lackeys, the Bringers of Order. Evidently, they were trying to find the main citadel of the phoenix civilization, and they thought that Keitaro's expedition would have an idea of where it was. They did, but Keitaro was hardly going to give it up to them.

This time, Keitaro knew what to expect and escaped into the jungle with Naru. Again, the next week or so was full of thrills and excitement, but having Naru along often made things difficult. Whenever some part of her clothing got damaged on the long treks, she would bash him for looking, even if they knew there were enemies in the area. More than once this resulted in Keitaro having to dispatch more baddies than he thought could possibly exist until he wondered if he was eventually going to take out the entire organization just by defending himself and Naru. Also, Naru moved somewhat slower and less confidently than he did through the dense, trackless jungle.

In the end, this was their downfall. He described to Motoko their attempt to take refuge in the cavernous phoenix ruins they had found and their run in the darkness, during which he lost his gun and the information about the location of the phoenix citadel. He described the way Naru would accidentally trigger traps, or need help crossing the pits, and the terrible end result that this slowed pace had. Finally, he described his bizarre escape from the camp, still unsure as to what had happened. As his tale wound to a close Motoko, still staring at him raptly while caught up in this incredible story, began to realize it had gotten dark outside.

"In the end," Keitaro said, "I just wasn't able to protect her. Kurosawa was too fast, too strong... I was too weak..." He broke off, unable to continue, and Motoko realized why he had been struggling so hard to train, despite his injured state.

"You want revenge, don't you?" she asked quietly.

After a moment, Keitaro looked down away from the ceiling and stared into her face for the first time since beginning to speak. His eyes shone with tears, but his voice was firm as he said, "Yes."

Motoko looked back at him, moved by his story, feeling much closer to him now than ever before. After a solemn minute's silence, she stood up. "Rest well, Urashima. The better you rest, the sooner you will be discharged, and the sooner we will be able to train."

For a second, Keitaro just stared at her in disbelief. Then he smiled weakly and asked, "We?"

"Yes," she said, her smile widening. "I want to avenge Naru as well, so we are going to help one another train until we can each defeat that bastard Kurosawa one-handed."

Again, Keitaro seemed at a loss for words. Then, tears rising once more to his eyes, he whispered, "Thank you," and laid his head back down onto the pillow. He then closed his eyes, and soon Motoko could tell by his steady breathing that he had fallen asleep. Turning, she walked out the door, closing it quietly after her and turning off the lights.

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Whew! Long chapter. Much longer than I expected it to be. Hope nobody minds! Yes, I know there's no one other than Motoko in this chapter... and yes, that does mean this is going to be a Keitaro x Motoko fic. I'm trying to decide whether I oughta add that into the title... It might give things away a little, but it might also attract more readers. Anyways, now that we've arrived at the third installment, and I"m beginning to get a couple of readers, I'd like to thank those that have reviewed. Support and criticism are both appreciated, and really, without either I'm not sure I would keep this thing going. It's turning into a really hefty beast of a fic ; Anyways, I hope old readers keep reading, and new readers enjoy and review!

Thank you all,

Vagonnoth

P.S. In case you didn't catch it from earlier chapters, my email address is vagonnoth at hotmail dot com (does anyone know why stupid quick edit has been doing this? It just creates a blank when I write the whole address, like If anyone knows why, please tell me!)


	4. Training

Disclaimer: I don't own Love Hina, so don't sue me. Simple, brief, and to the point. So there. Bleh, I hate being sick... I also hate that school has kept me from writing this for so long. But I'll get to that in the little post-chapter section. So, until then, enjoy the latest and greatest installment of my revamped, slightly edited, hopefully better written, and long delayed story.

Disclaimer Part Two: Okay, time to finish this chapter. Frankly, it has now been... oh god, at least six months since I wrote the first installments. But now I'm back! Yay! urm... yeah... And then the robot started dancing... Aaaanyways, sorry to keep anyone who actually read this P.O.S waiting, but I really do plan on finishing this now. (As I continue to ignore the stack of econ homework looming behind me) So, um, enjoy, I guess! . ;

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Chapter 4: Training

**Hinatasou, Two weeks after Keitaro's hospitalization, 12:21 P.M. **

As he climbed the stairs to the building partially supported by Motoko, Keitaro thought back to what she had told him the second day of his hospitalization.

"I've told everyone that you reopened the wounds when you slid in the morning dew and tried to catch yourself on the side of the house," she had said. "I also told them that you were just trying to keep limber and in shape with a little light exercise. I didn't tell them how hard you were working, and I don't think you should either." she told him. "Why have them worry?"

As much as he hated lying, Keitaro had to agree. Besides, if any of the tenants knew about his new goal, he would never be allowed to train himself; there's no way they'd let him risk his life again trying to track Kurosawa down. As it was, he was fortunate to have Motoko, who at least understood him in this.

As they reached the top of the stairs, he forced himself to set aside his ruminations. Everyone was waiting, Shinobu, Su, Sara, and Ema having skipped school again. _I've got to get them to stop doing that..._ thought Keitaro, even as Su and Sara tried tackling him and were physically restrained by the rest of the household. _I'd hate to see them start getting bad grades because of me. _

He found himself swept inside quickly and made to lie down on the couch, which he had to admit he'd missed. He'd missed the whole house, in fact. Everyone had been so glad when he'd said he thought he could return. As Shinobu hurried off to whip up something for lunch, and everyone else did their best to make him comfortable, he found himself smiling for the first time in what felt like ages. Even as he allowed himself to sink back into the welcoming warm noise and bustle that was his home, he found himself thinking how perfect it would be if only Naru were here...

Tears welling up in his eyes, lying in the heart of the family that was Hinatasou, blissfully unaware of everyone's desperate attempts to remove Kanako from the room and let him sleep, Keitaro sank into the dreamless slumber of the wounded.

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**Hinatasou, The same day, 7:49 P.M.**

After the long, cautiously optimistic welcome back party, Keitaro made his way to his old room. Kitsune had returned to her room, drunk, which everyone informed him was better than her recent tendency towards drinking herself into total oblivion without even leaving the dinner table. Shinobu was busy cleaning up, Su, Sara, and Ema were off preparing some kind of mischief together, Kanako had excused herself some time earlier claiming a need to clean up a bit since Kitsune was useless, Mutsumi had gone out to the hotsprings, Motoko was out on an evening run... So Keitaro had decided not to bother anyone. He knew he had to face this one on his own anyways. He continued down the hall, wondering if he'd be able to stay there alone that night. This was the part of his return he'd been dreading the most. Reaching the door, he paused a moment, bracing himself for what he knew would be a painful reminder of better days. Then he opened it, took a deep breath, wincing at the mild pain in his chest, and stepped inside.

Inside, it was just as he'd feared: everything was exactly the way it was before, down to the hole in the ceiling, by far the most terrible reminder of Naru's absence. A pain stabbed at him that had nothing to do with his injuries as he stood there in the middle of the floor staring up at the jagged gap in the smooth boards of the ceiling. He turned to leave, but suddenly realized the exertion of the party and the emotional trauma had been too much for him and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

A half an hour later Motoko, back from her run and on the way to her room, found him lying there. He clearly hadn't had the strength to get up, and had fallen asleep again, curled up without a futon. Pitying him, she entered and got out a pillow and blanket. As she bent to cover him, though, he reached out and grasped her wrist, his eyes opening and staring up at her.

"Take me out of here..." he whispered, his eyes red but dry.

She paused a moment, considering what to do. She really thought that his recovery would go faster if he stayed here where everyone could help him and keep him from overexerting himself. On the other hand, it must be terrible for him to have constant reminders of Naru around him.

"But..." she trailed off, searching for something to say. "You've been dealing with it so well. And it will be much harder to train together if you live in that apartment..."

He stared for a bit, then nodded slowly, gradually releasing his grip. He started to get up, and Motoko hastened to help him. When he was up, without a word, he went over to get his futon out. With Motoko helping him, he quickly got it set up and ready for the night. Once they had it out on the floor, Motoko said good night and started for the door. As she reached the door, though, she heard a thud behind her. Whirling around, she saw that Keitaro had fallen over again, and was crying silently, his tears staining the sheets.

Rushing back to his side, she kneeled next to him. His eyes closed, he whispered something. Straining to hear, Motoko leaned closer.

"Would you... stay with me?" he asked. "Like you did... in the hospital?" His words were barely audible, but his pain was clear. Motoko stopped to consider. If Kanako or anyone else found out... she quickly shook her head to get rid of the mental images of crucifixion and other unpleasant means of death. Still, how could she deny him this small kindness when he had been through so much?

"Of course I will," she replied, "if you're sure you wouldn't rather have someone else, perhaps Kanako stay with you..." She trailed off as a bitter, half-smile appeared on his face.

Lifting his head and opening his eyes, he said, "I don't want to be a burden on the students, and as for Kitsune and Kanako... well, I don't think either of them would give me a whole lot of sleep, either through drunkenness or..." He trailed off, the color rising to his face, not needing to explain since Motoko knew full well what he meant.

"All right," she said. "Just let me bathe and get my things. I will return, so just wait here, ok?" She smiled encouragingly at him, and was rewarded with a faint, sickly echo of it cast back at her.

"I'm not going anywhere," Keitaro said, lowering his head once more onto the pillow. Motoko hurried out of the room.

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It was another two weeks before Motoko allowed Keitaro to begin working out again, a time that Keitaro seriously begrudged her. Even then, she began him on a light regimen, forcing him to pace himself in his efforts. He recovered quickly, though, and as time went on, he grew strong enough to begin sparring with Motoko.

He also found each day easier to live in Hinatasou. Once his training began, he was so exhausted at night that he no longer needed someone there for him to sleep, and after a few months he found himself returning to some semblance of normality in his daily life. Everyone else saw this, and things quickly returned more or less to normal, though Kitsune was a little grimmer than before. Still, even she warmed up as Su and Sara returned to their pranks, joined reluctantly by Ema, and Kanako returned to her attempts to seduce her half-brother.

Despite all of this, though, Keitaro kept Naru and Kurosawa always at the back of his thoughts, refusing to let either of them go.

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**Hinatasou, Early Spring, 4:02 P.M.**

The sun shone brightly on the two combatants below, mingling with the unseasonably warm breeze to give a hint of the coming spring. Cheers echoed around the back of Hinatasou as Keitaro and Motoko sparred to the cheers and jeers of the other house occupants, who were seated safely up on the roof watching the battle. Things having returned much to normal, just about everyone was cheering for Motoko.

"Bash the dork!" screamed Sara, jumping up and down as Keitaro quickly sidestepped one of Motoko's downward swings. She was using a practice sword, but Keitaro had so far refused to use a weapon, saying he wanted to get all his strength and skill back the way Seta had taught him. Unfortunately, Seta and Haruka had left shortly after Keitaro began to settle back into life at Hinatasou, saying they needed to get back to the dig. Keitaro could hardly keep them there, so he reluctantly said goodbye and asked only that they visit again some time in the future.

Kanako, who until now had been training with them as well, watched from the sidelines. Keitaro had defeated her in hand-to-hand combat some time earlier, a monumentous event, and now she watched to see how the kendoist fared against her almost recovered big brother. As she watched their movements, she could see the outcome of the match, and a smug expression gradually formed on her face.

"Yeeeahhhh! C'mon girl, you almost had him that time!" shouted Kitsune, a little tipsy as always. Below, Motoko had just missed Keitaro with a ki blast that took out a small boulder as he leaped away. Suddenly, in a series of movements so fast they were just a blur to those above, the two charged at each other, Keitaro dodging several lightning fast swings from Motoko and coming up inside her blade's reach, fist extended an inch away from her throat. As Kanako had predicted, the kendo girl wouldn't prover herself superior by defeating Keitaro. Amidst the halfhearted groans of the tenants, minus Shinobu who was shouting out a barely audible congratulations, the two fighters relaxed, stepped back, and bowed with broad grins on both their faces.

"Well, I'd say you're back to where you were," observed Motoko. "That's the first time anyone other than Seta has beaten me. I'm not sure if I should feel humiliated or proud," she said, smiling.

Keitaro laughed, a real laugh that everyone had been glad to see him recover in the past months. "I suppose so, but since it's really thanks to you, you should be proud!" Leaning closer, he said quietly, "If it hadn't been for you, I would have started training too early and ripped my wounds open again... And, of course, I would never have found such an excellent sparring partner."

"Shut the flattering," the swordswoman said, whacking him lightly across the back of the head even as she fought to hide the blush of pleasure spreading across her features. "So, will you pick up a weapon now? I doubt you'll be able to compete with a gun barehanded," she pointed out.

Suddenly more serious, Keitaro replied, "yes, I will have to start training with weapons... but I don't know anything outside of martial arts. That's all Seta got around to teaching me. I've got to admit, it's a bit embarassing..." He trailed off, sweatdropping and scratching his head. Suddenly, he looked up into Motoko's face. "Would you be willing to teach me?" he asked. "I know it's a bit much to ask, but I don't know where else I'm going to learn anything other than martial arts... and I know you can fight with more than a sword, I saw you fight Seta with a polearm during the play that summer." He paused a moment, savoring the memory, then suddenly aquiring a neutral expression. Motoko knew it well by now, and knew that it signified that his thoughts were back at Naru. The blush she had been having such trouble with quickly faded as her face took on a more somber expression.

"Of course I'll teach you," she said. "But now if you'll excuse me, I really need to take a bath. We'll start talking about weapons training tonight." She quickly walked away.

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Some time later, soaking comfortably in the hot springs, Motoko found herself lost in thought. Fortunately, she was alone, the others having various duties and tasks of their own and, of course, having relatively-back-to-normal Keitaro there to entertain them. She looked to the sky and sank down until only her head was left above the surface, wreathed in the steam rising from the water. It had been some time since she and Keitaro had begun training together, and she was glad to see him feeling happy once more. So why this slight unease she felt from time to time...?

Shaking her head, she sat up once more. _Never mind that,_ she thought. _I'm probably just tired from training with him so much lately... he really has gotten quite good._ _Now... what weapon to teach him..._ she was skilled in the use of a few, having trained extensively in her youth, but it was difficult to make a decision without the presence of the one she was choosing for. _We'll go down to that small armory below the inn tonight and select something,_ she decided. Satisfied, she laid her head back and enjoyed the bath, brushing away this strange small emptiness that kept appearing from time to time in the pit of her stomach.

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Meanwhile, elsewhere in the inn...

"Mecha Tamago XXVII, GO!" screamed a hyperactive voice.

Keitaro, hearing the once more familiar cry, threw himself to the side as an explosion struck where he had been innocently walking moments before and a sharp gust of wind announced the passing of something easily exceeding the speed limit on any roads aside from the autobahn. Su had once tried out a Tamago that exceeded the sound barrier, but after all the windows in the western wing of the house shattered, she was thoroughly forbidden from ever doing anything like that again.

Spinning around, the poor kanrinrin looked about for a sign of the gigantic, mechanical, monstrous imitation of all things chelonian that he knew to be after him. Instead, he saw Su standing with a controller in her hands, grinning like the proverbial shark. Hoping to cut off his torment at its source, Keitaro lunged for the controller. For the thousandth time, though, he found himself grabbing air as Su leaped over his head.

_How does she manage to jump like that..._ was Keitaro's last thought before a large, metallic object sent him bouncing down the hallway. Rolling and gaining his feet again, Keitaro made a break for the nearest exit, hoping to stop the thing outside. Too late, he reached a door just as the sound of a roaring engine fueled by God-knows-what began approaching again. Closing his eyes and bracing for impact, Keitaro didn't see the rope that suddenly spun out of nowhere, wrapping itself around the automaton's left fin and spinning it around in a circle, releasing it to fly back directly into Su, who was too surprised to dodge.

"Onii-chan!" cried Kanako, tackling her older brother, hugging him fiercely enough to crack a few ribs. "You should be more careful around these crazy girls," she admonished, looking up at him with eyes that made him seriously consider taking her advice and running away from her. She lowered her head and began nuzzling his chest, saying quietly, "I won't let anyone hurt you, Onii-chan... just stay near me."

Looking up once more, she noticed him staring over her shoulder, just in time for her to let go of him as a series of metal arms shot out and wrapped around here, dragging her down the hallway. "You little...! Stay away from my Onii-chan!" she screamed furiously, wriggling in an attempt to break free of the metallic embrace that kept her from going to her brother's aid. Meanwhile, Su was bounding over her ensnared form towards Keitaro, who was busily trying to get out of the door that seemed to have, unfortunately, been blocked from the outside.

"Awww, come here Keitaro!" shouted Su, jumping up and wrapping her legs around his neck. She leaned over and looked down at his face. "You've gotta help me out with my experiments!" she exclaimed, giving the last word a suggestive tone that made him remember how old she was now. She jumped off the stunned martial-artist and began dragging him back down the hall. It was at this point, though, that she turned around to see her mechanical arms lying limp on the floor, Kanako having escaped their grasp and vanished. Suddenly, Keitaro found himself freed as Kanako sped out of the shadows on the ceiling to strike at the psycho little scientist. As the two began duking it out, Keitaro frantically fled, ducking into the kitchen for a quick escape.

Slightly out of breath, Keitaro sagged against the countertop, only to find Shinobu there, smiling at him. "Hello, Sempai. You look tired. Would you like to help me prepare dinner? The others probably won't look in here." Glad to find someone who appreciated the problems he was having, Keitaro gladly agreed to help. After a minute or two, though, he realized that every time she moved, Shinobu kept somehow winding up a little closer to him. Eventually she was virtually snuggling into him, and though he'd like to think it was accidental, the light flush in her cheeks told him it wasn't.

"Um, Shinobu? I, uh, I just remembered, I have some cleaning up to do elsewhere..." stammered Keitaro, trying to find a way out of this uncomfortable situation.

"Auuu, Sempai, can't you just stay a bit longer? You wouldn't want me to do all this by myself, would you?" Shinobu exclaimed, turning quickly and leaning into him, her hands against his chest. "For me? Please...?" She looked up at him with puppydog eyes, but he was already backing away to the door.

"Um, uh, I'm sorry Shinobu. Uh, maybe another time... Bye!" He spun around and bolted off to his room, hoping to lock himself in and escape all the attention that had been thrown his way lately.

Things were definitely back to normal.

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Or perhaps not quite.

Upon reaching his room, the smile Keitaro had been wearing all day gradually faded from his face. He flopped down onto his futon and stared at the weave of his pillowcase for a long time. Though he was dry-eyed, his tears having been shed some time ago, his heart still felt as though it were made of lead as he thought of a name, and the person that would have sent him into low Earth orbit for being "perverted" with the girls that had been tormenting him all day...

_Naru..._

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**Hinatasou, Same Day, 8:14 P.M.**

Down in the ancient armory under the Hinatasou, Motoko and Keitaro perused the shadowy rows of weapons and armor, trying to find something that would suit the martial artist. This part of the house had existed since before the means of generating electric light had come to the land of the rising sun, so the two were making their way by light of two electric lanterns, which cast eerie shadows about the dungeon-like room. Swords, spears, Shaolin spades, bows, staves, and all kinds of other, more exotic weapons loomed in the dim room, glinting darkly beside suits of samurai armor and joining together to fill the space with a smell of oil, dust, and age. Precisely how all of these things hadn't dissolved into rust long ago, Keitaro was unsure of. No one ever came down here to maintain things, but every blade was gleaming and polished like it had been made the day before, and their edges, as Motoko discovered by testing a spearhead with her finger, were sharp enough to merit the invention of a new word to describe their cutting ability.

After a few minutes in the dead air in these catacombs, one of them finally spoke, breaking the silence of ages.

"See anything you like?" Motoko asked cheerfully, her words sounding hollow to her own ears and loud in the silence, as though the place was rebuking her for her lack of solemnity. Her best attempt at levity failed, she lowered her voice and spoke quietly. "Everything down here appears to be in superb condition," she said, unconsciously holding her still-bleeding finger, "it's all down to what you feel is right for you."

Keitaro, saying nothing, nodded and looked about. He picked up a sword or two, drew them, looked at them. Nothing seemed to interest him especially. Motoko watched silently as he meandered over to a rack of polearms, pulling one or two off of it, feeling their heft and balance, waving them about aimlessly. Just as Motoko was about to come over and help, perhaps bring a few items to his attention, he looked up quickly, turning his head towards a particularly darkened corner of the room. Acting as though he was being called, he moved off into the dark. It seemed to Motoko that his lantern flickered and dimmed a little as he approached a nook over there, but she decided it was just her imagination. She walked over to join him, and saw that he had found a staff, kept apart from any other items by a few feet of space. As he set his lantern down and picked up the staff, his lantern seemed to return to its normal intensity. Keitaro turned to her, holding the staff as though he had used one every day of his life, presenting it to her for inspection.

As she bent over it, she recalled the lantern's strange behavior, and decided not to take any chances. She lifted the staff out of his grasp, closed her eyes, and began to carefully probe it with her ki. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She opened her eyes in shock. There was no such thing, in her experience, as a weapon without its own force, its own feeling. Weapons picked up something of their user's intent and the things they have been wielded to do, giving them a personality of their own over time. Even a new, unused weapon will have some heart of its own, beaten or carved into it by its creator. This staff, though, held nothing. She looked closer.

At first glance, it seemed to be a very ordinary weapon. Polished wooden shaft, slightly tapered ends, capable of dealing a nasty blow but nothing more unique than that. True, she was unable to identify the wood it was made out of, and it seemed somehow to be reinforced. She turned to a nearby case holding short swords, took one, and made a light chop at the staff. There was a sharp ringing sound, but the staff was intact without so much as a scratch. Puzzled, Motoko swung the short sword harder, and then with her full force behind it. This last time, the short sword shuddered down to the hilt and when she inspected its edge, there was a chip. Again, though, the staff was undamaged.

The staff's invincibility seemed, in a strange way, to mimic Keitaro's. Smiling at the little joke of fate, Motoko turned back to Keitaro and went to hand him the staff again. But as she shrugged and looked away from the staff, she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Again, she looked at the weapon, staring intensely at it, trying to see what could have grabbed her attention so, but the staff lay there in her hands, innocently. No, not innocently, she realized. For all that it had no energy, this staff was more alive than any weapon she had ever seen. It appeared to be... brooding. No, not even that. Sulking, perhaps? She looked up at Keitaro once again, and once again caught a flicker of movement. This time, she froze, slowly letting her gaze drift around so that the staff was just at the periphery of her vision. It was hard to be sure, but something on its surface seemed to be flowing. It was a smooth, gentle motion, almost like a river. But if it was a river, it was a dark river at midnight during a new moon with a cloudy sky. It was an underground river, rippling its way along in its own time until, suddenly, the ground above it caved in, its support being worn away by years of water flowing.

She looked up and handed it back to Keitaro, who by now was wondering at her strange behavior, and tried to figure out why such an enigmatic thing would call to him. But when he looked at her questioningly and asked in a low voice, "is it all right?" She just nodded, and led the way back out of the armory. Motoko made a mental note to ask Haruka about the staff later, but until then she saw no harm in allowing Keitaro to use it. Together, they reentered the house and closed and locked the door to the armory behind them.

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All right, and there's the end of the fourth installment. I thought I should lighten the mood a little, though the story as a whole is still probably going to be pretty serious. Again, I have the creeping feeling that this is going to become quite the little epic, and I also suspect it's going to eat up a lot more of my time than I thought it would when I first started writing. The second half of this chapter alone has taken me the last hour and a half! I fully intend to stand by my promise to finish this thing, but my updates may be a bit sporadic as I try and finish up all my committments at the end of senior year, here. Good news is that I think I'm done with service hours for NHS! XD haha, yeah, anyways, if you enjoyed my little fiction, please review. Hell, if you didn't like it, please review as well. I can always use a bit of helpful criticism. Just don't give me something like "this blows!" or "ZOMFG, you killed Naru! DIE DIE DIE!" without supporting your opinion, k? I've been flamed enough at other sites that I just don't have the patience for that. All right, it's good to be back from hiatus, and I look forward to reading your reviews! Thanks to all who support me in my endeavors. Cheers!

P.S. Anyone who emailed me before, sorry but I didn't log into my hotmail account for so long that it deactivated... --; It should be up and active now, though, so feel free to send me... well, anything, I guess. Oh, and finally, I may go back and revise my first three chapters later, but for now I think I'll just focus on finishing up the story.


	5. Troubled Hearts

Disclaimer: Love Hina not mine. I'd have to be much richer, smarter, and cooler for that to be true. Oh well.

All right! Time to get to work on chapter... wow, only chapter 5? Feels so much longer thus far. Amazing. Of course, that damn hiatus can't be helping with the feeling of length this story has... sorry about that, again. I really wasn't anticipating all the crap senior year was going to hit me with. Now I'm set, though. I know where I'm going for college, I've got all my service hours done, all that's left is to pull off B's in my harder classes, A's in my blowoffs, and practice for my last two concerts in piano and oboe. In other words, I'm now free to spend several class periods a day brainstorming story ideas, and writing them out when I get home! As I said, some unforseen crap may cause sporadic updates for a while, but the story will be finished! It's a yakusoku. : )

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Chapter 5: Darkness on the Horizon

**Hinatasou, Spring, 7:20 A.M.**

The sound of wood upon wood cracked out over the rooftops of the Hinata House, echoing far off into the surrounding forest in the still, morning air. As the sun rose happily to the challenge of crossing the sky once more, it was greeted by the sight of three figures on the deck of the building below, two clearly sparring, a third watching. As the first rays of dawn shone down onto the shafts of the two staves currently in action, bathing them in liquid light, the more slender of the two figures struck the other's staff away and ducked inside its guard, jabbing the other figure roughly on the chest with the slender one's own staff.

"Onii-chan, you've been forgetting what we've told you about defense again!" cried an exasperated Kanako as she stepped back from her step-brother, looking cross and flushed in the face. Then her face broke into a rare smile, and she put her hands on her hips, saying, "you really have gotten better, though, I'll give you that."

Behind her, Motoko, who had been watching the whole match from the other side of the deck, her specialty lying more in bladed weapons, chimed in. "True, he hasn't been knocked unconscious in over a week!" she said with a smile on her lips as she uncrossed her arms and walked towards the two. Seeing the look Keitaro was giving her while rubbing his sore chest, she pointed out, "look, it was your own idea to start right off the bat with full sparring. I told you it would be rough, and you decided to go on ahead anyways. If not for your bizarre immortality, you'd have been hospitalized a dozen times by now!"

Keitaro winced, recognizing that she was right. "I guess it is my own fault," he admitted. "I just... I dunno. There are times when I just times when I wish this time of training would go on forever..." he trailed off, leaving the sentence finished, but his thoughts incomplete. For the briefest of moments, his face went blank, followed quickly by a rictus of agony and a flare of rage, respectively. Then, these impressions having passed so quickly that neither girl was certain they had really seen them, he lifted his head and smiled his big, warm, full-hearted smile at them. "Come on," he said, "let's go see what Shinobu is cooking for breakfast." He turned and walked off toward the stairs.

Motoko and Kanako looked at one another for a moment, both having been more disturbed by Keitaro's words than he, in his classic denseness, was capable of realizing. Then they, too, turned and headed down into the house proper.

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**Hinatasou, The Same Day, 9:14 A.M.**

Walking through the house on her way to clean the outdoor bath, a task she considered one of her sworn duties as kanrinrin, Kanako thought hard about the person that had occupied her thoughts constantly since he came back.

Her first thoughts, of course, were of the young Keitaro that had shown her kindness when she had thought she was alone in the world. Smiling fondly, she felt a warm sensation rising in her breast as she thought of the day they had promised to one day take care of Hinatasou together. It was a promise that kept her going for those years after he left, drove her to perfectionism in all that she did so she could be with him when the time came. She had learned the martial arts from Granny Hina, developing the skills to defend herself and Keitaro should the need arise. She studied the duties and skills required of the kanrinrin of an inn, and later, of a girl's dormitory.

As she thought about the Keitaro of long ago, she smiled, thinking the weapon type he had chosen was perfect for him. A staff, designed to wound, to defeat, to stop an enemy, but not to kill, not to damage permanently. A guardian's weapon. True, it could certainly be used for killing - a solid, wooden pole of about four feet in length could do some hefty damage if wielded with that intent - but in truth its origins were as a non-lethal weapon, and it was only made for incapacitation, not actual elimination. Though Kanako might have preferred for him to choose a slightly more damaging weapon since he would be using it in deadly earnest, it rested so comfortably in Keitaro's hands that she could picture him using nothing else.

It was around the time that Keitaro had left that she had found Kuro, her flying, talking cat. It was he that kept her company all those times when the memory of the promise wasn't enough. Now, of course, she was able to deal with her loneliness, and couldn't leave the dormitory, so her dear friend had taken a trip on his own to find others of his kind. Since he couldn't write, of course, she hadn't seen or heard from him in some time. However, she was sure he was doing well, certain that she would know if anything happened to him.

Knocking and calling out first to see if anyone was in the spring bathing (which they weren't), she entered the spring, took up the bucket and brush that was kept for cleaning, and got to work. Ironically enough, the work reminded her of when she first came here.

She had been terrified and thrilled at the prospect of seeing her onii-chan again, and was glad she had Kuro with her to reassure her. However, when she arrived and saw how Keitaro was living, surrounded by all of these unworthy females, she quickly took control of both herself and the situation. Smiling, she remembered the day she arrived and the havoc she caused with her brilliant disguises. Suddenly, her smile disappeared as she remembered the one with the strongest claim on her brother.

Naru.

Anger, mixed with regret washed over Kanako as she thought back to Narusegawa Naru, the "promise girl" that had stolen her brother's heart with another promise, even after he had promised Kanako that they would run the Hinatasou together one day. Though Kanako eventually gave in to Naru, wishing for Keitaro's happiness, she had never really given up completely. Now that her brother's love had died, though... Kanako found herself torn. She wanted to hate Naru... did hate her, for loving her brother, for taking her dream away, for making her think it was over and have to keep on going. But now that Naru had died, she felt no satisfaction. Instead, she felt sorrow for her brother and, in a way, sadness for Naru. In the years after losing Keitaro to her, she had thought about Naru and how she must have felt, confronted with all the competitors for Keitaro's affection. In the end, Kanako felt a kind of kinship with her, almost a friendly enmity. This left her able to remain civil with Naru when she and Keitaro visited, but now Naru was dead, and Kanako had lost... well, lost a dear enemy.

Working furiously now, scrubbing away the grime coating the bathing area, her bare feet slapping against the natural stone, Kanako thought about when Keitaro had come home this last time. How furious she had been at something she assumed had been Naru's fault, and then how quickly she had shifted that anger to these unknown entities that had killed Naru and put Keitaro, for all his invincibility, into the hospital. How she had been determined to let him rest, to get over his pain, but how Motoko had been the one to find him in his time of need and bring him to the hospital.

_Now there's a thought..._ the dark girl said to herself, as her pace suddenly slackened off. She thought how Motoko had always seemed to be around when Keitaro was suffering. She had found him when he tore open his wound, brought him to the hospital, had been the only one there when he woke up... the incidents kept piling up in Kanako's head as she pondered this sudden connection between the two that seemed to have formed when she was too focused on her brother to see the larger picture.

_I will have to test this..._ she thought, as she walked back to the door to the baths and put away the brush and bucket. _I have to see if once more I am required to fight for Onii-chan's love..._

_Because I will not let anyone else hurt him again._

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**Hinatasou, Same Day, 3:43 P.M.**

The sun, enjoying its ride on the downward curve of its daily arc, shone brightly down on the twin figures of Motoko and Keitaro as they went out for an afternoon run. Standing at a window on the second floor of the house, Kanako watched them leave, and then turned and marched through the empty house to Motoko's room. She had begged off from the run, saying that she had some chores to catch up on around the Hinatasou, and so she was able to remain behind while everyone else was out of the house. At the doorway to Motoko's room, she paused. Motoko was a warrior at heart, after all. Would her room be so easy to enter unharmed? Carefully, she turned the knob, allowing the door to crack open just a little.

Nothing happened.

Letting her courage rise, Kanako pushed the door open a bit farther, trusting that her finely honed instincts as a martial artist would protect her from any surprises hidden behind it.

Poisoned darts and spinning blades completely failed to assault her.

Laughing out loud to herself, Kanako threw the door open and strode into the room, chiding herself for being afraid that someone might set a trap in her own inn. _No, _she corrected herself, _mine and Onii-chan's..._ Crossing to the middle of the floor, she paused a moment, wondering where to look for a diary or other item that might show Motoko's feelings for Keitaro. Standing there, directly in front of the suit of samurai armor, surrounded by scrolls of calligraphy, she heard a faint but, to her, all too loud sound.

"Click."

Flinging herself forward and slightly to the side, Kanako felt a breeze rush past and stir her hair as she narrowly avoided the small cloud of darts that shot out from various fixtures and converged where she had been standing less than half a second before. Springing to her feet, Kanako paused and listened for more noises. Dusting herself off, she calmly walked about the room, picking up the darts and following their trajectories back to their sources so she could reload the devices and avoid suspicion. As she did so, she inwardly berated herself for having been overconfident. _It seems I forget all too often that this woman is my equal as a warrior, _Kanako thought._ I must keep sharp when dealing with her._

More cautiously, avoiding the center of the room, Kanako continued to search for some kind of a journal. Eventually, after half an hour, she had to accept that there was nothing in the room that might betray anything about Motoko other than the fact that she was very good at maintaining a strict, neat environment about herself. Of course, there was evidence of Motoko's true, untidy habits that seemed to surface from time to time when she allowed herself a break from discipline - small clutter-zones carefully hidden in the closet, untidy lower layers in drawers covered by a neat surface layer of folded clothing, and a trash bag also concealed in the closet half-full with junk food wrappers - but generally, the aura of the room was that of a clean, sterile, tidy area in the larger chaos of Hinatasou.

As Kanako left, she might have been surprised to know that Motoko did in fact keep a journal, but that it resided in a secret pocket of one of her identical gi's, and that she took it with her whenever possible. Kanako also might have been a touch surprised at the contents, but since she was unable to locate it, there was no way she could know what she was dealing with.

As she closed the door behind her, Kanako thought, _I suppose I will have to proceed with plan two... _A smirk slowly spread across her face as she thought about it. _I was kind of hoping it would come to this. _With those last thoughts, she walked downstairs just in time to welcome the two runners back.

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**Hinatasou, 8:41 P.M.**

In the years since she had first arrived at Hinatasou, Kanako had become more and more intelligent about people in general. At first, she was so generally alienated and alone that she was unable to feel what others felt and think the way others thought. Though she was a fairly good judge when it came to detachedly viewing the lives of others, she was never able to take all the variables into account. (As for the "love" scores she came up with in those early days, she was remarkably close on every member of the household except Motoko... and of course, the scores had all changed since then) Over the years, though, as Kanako lived in Hinatasou among the others, even going so far as to form bonds with the tenants, the doors to her heart, which until then had only opened a tiny crack towards Keitaro, gradually swung wide, allowing her to experience and understand the full range of emotion that other human beings lived with.

Not that this made her any less cynical, of course.

Making sure her door was locked behind her, Kanako turned to the small doors that belied the vastness of the space within her closet. Throwing them wide, she began to go through the tools of her trade. As she pored over her collection of wigs, she thought to herself about what she was trying to accomplish.

_Someone Motoko doesn't have a whole lot of history with..._ she thought to herself. That shouldn't be too difficult, since Motoko had few truly good friends besides Naru, Su, and Keitaro, none of which she intended to impersonate. Naru was gone, Su would be... difficult to imitate, and Keitaro... Kanako flushed suddenly as she thought about her one other attempt at disguising someone as Keitaro.

_Well, it would certainly let me figure out how she feels..._ she considered. She suddenly shook her head violently as though to dislodge the thought from its grasp on her head. _No! Onii-chan's body is sacred. It belongs to him alone! _She paused a moment after this last thought, then reconsidered. _Well, soon to me as well, of course. _Pleasantly warmed by this thought, Kanako turned once more to the racks of false hair and suddenly arrived at a decision. It was a matter of minutes to gather the other necessary bits of wardrobe, and then another fifteen or so minutes to apply the necessary makeup and practice the voice and facial expressions (none of her speed had left her, since she still used her skills on occasion).

With a satisfied smile on her face at a job well done, Konno Mitsune walked out of Kanako's room.

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Stealthily making her way through the secret passages in the house (to which she had made sure there were no entrances or exits into her own room), Kanako congratulated herself on a good choice of disguise. Motoko had never been the closest of friends with the irresponsible party girl, and it had been so many years since she'd seen the fox-girl that she had few recent memories that might make for an awkward conversation. Finally, in the years since she had taken up proprietorship of the teahouse, Kitsune had quickly become a source of comfort, wisdom, and guidance to the younger tenants. Kanako still puzzled a little at this, but decided that having to actually work for a living combined with being one of the oldest residents must have inspired a sort of motherly instinct in the ex-drunk.

_At any rate,_ she said to herself as she climbed a hidden staircase and emerged into Kitsune's room, _the timing is perfect. Right now is when she usually closes shop, but she's going into town tonight, allegedly to get some things that were forgotten on the grocery list, but I suspect she's really going out with that man she met in the tea shop a few weeks back.Anyways, that should give me a few hours to do what I must. _Smiling once more, confident in her disguise, Kanako stepped out of Kitsune's room...

And directly into Keitaro.

Horrified, Kanako tried finding a way to escape, seeing no possible routes as Keitaro turned around and looked at her. Angrily, she berated herself even as she resigned herself to the reality of having been caught in the act.

_Damn, the one person that always manages to see through my disguises and I walk right into-_

"Oh, hello Kitsune. Sorry about standing right here, I suppose I was lost in thought. Aren't you supposed to be out right now getting those groceries?" he asked, smiling, but seeming genuinely convinced that he was speaking with Kitsune. Lost for words, Kanako nodded dumbly and held up her wallet.

"Oh, forgot your money," Keitaro said. Then, laughing, "that's unlike you! Ordinarily you could hardly be expected to forget a penny! Oh well. I'll let you get going then. Bye!" With a wave of his hand, he walked off down the hall, leaving behind a very confused little sister who waited until he was gone and then reentered Kitsune's room.

_Strange,_ she thought,_ that was the first time one of my disguises ever actually managed to fool him! _She pondered this for a bit, then started as she remembered her original purpose for the disguise. Forgetting about Keitaro's strange behavior, she slipped out of the room and sought out Motoko.

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She found her a short while later, just walking back to her room to collect her bathing things. Moving quickly, Kanako intercepted the swordswoman in the hall.

"Hey, Motoko?" she asked, her voice falling easily into Kitsune's unique accent, "do you think we could talk?"

Puzzled, her hand on her door, Motoko turned and looked at her. "Why, certainly, Kitsune. What is it?"

Nudging her into the room, Kanako replied, "not out here, let's get some privacy first." Still looking confused, a bit of worry creeping into her features, Motoko complied.

Once in the room, the two sat down at Motoko's old study table. The kendoist was the first to speak.

"What is it you want to talk about, Kitsune?" she queried, looking Kanako full in the face. "Also, aren't you supposed to be out getting groceries?" she added.

"Oh, the groceries. Well, I figured they could wait until the next big shopping trip, you know. They weren't that important," answered Kanako, getting the easy question out of the way to reassure Motoko and get her relaxed for the interrogation ahead.

A smug smile appeared on the swordswoman's face as she nodded. "Got cancelled on, did we?" she asked amusedly.

Kanako facefaulted, then looked back up into Motoko's satisfied face. _How the Hell did she guess that? I thought I was the only one who knew that much about the tenants! Maybe this wasn't such a good idea..._ Shaking herself, she decided to play it through as best she could. She put on a grudging smile, and said back, "I didn't think it was that obvious."

Motoko's smile grew even wider, as she said, "my sister did the same a lot when she was younger. I was too small to recognize the signs, but now that I think back, it was pretty clear. I'm just surprised my parents didn't spot it until she told them. Or perhaps they did. They were always good at hiding their knowledge from us." She paused, thinking back on these fond memories, and then turned her focus back to Kanako. "But that wasn't what you wanted to talk about, was it?" she asked.

Kanako shook her head. "Actually," she admitted, "I wanted to talk about you. How are you doing? How's your writing going?" She said this last with a glance over to the undiminished pile of paper and writing utensils that rested on a shelf. Motoko followed her gaze and blushed guiltily.

Turning back, she said, "well, I've been rather busy helping Keitaro train... and I suppose it's just been difficult to focus on writing, what with everything that's been going on around here." Before she could say anything else, Kanako cut her off.

"How has training with him been? He seems to be doing a lot better, in many respects," she pointed out, steering the conversation to suit her needs as her confidence once more rose.

"He definitely seems mostly back to normal," Motoko responded, "as I'm sure you've noticed as well. There are times when I feel his ki isn't what it once was, but..." she broke off, smiling and shaking her head. "It's foolish to expect his spirit to all bounce back at once after a tragedy such as he has experienced," she said decidedly.

Then Kanako struck. "Oh, I don't know," she said, despite having sensed the same thing herself. "I think he seems to be doing well. He seems especially bright when you're around..." she trailed off suggestively, leaving Motoko to realize what she was alluding to. The kendoist went rigid, and her eyes widened as a flush rose to her cheeks.

"W-what are you suggesting, Konno-san?" she asked, slipping back to the honorific in her shock. "H-he's still grieving! Naru's death-"

"Naru's death happened almost a year ago, now." Kanako said sharply, a little too sharply for her assumed persona. Still, Motoko's surprise prevented her from noticing. "True, it was a terrible tragedy. True, Keitaro was hit hard by it, but don't you think he should be getting over it now? Especially with all our support." Suddenly, an all too real wave of anger rose in her, causing her to almost spit the words, "are you trying to heal his heart by taking her place?" This proved to be too much, as Motoko's face snapped into an expression to match the fury in Kanako's voice. Her eyes narrowed, and she responded, her voice icing over, filling the room with a chill air.

"I am glad for your concern over Keitaro's emotional state, but there is nothing between us in that respect. I care about him greatly, as do we all, but I am not trying to take his dead wife's place. Now if you'll excuse me, I would like to go take my bath." Picking up the things she had originally come for, she swept angrily out of the room, marching down the hall.

Sitting alone in the room, Kanako thought a moment about what had just passed between them, then stood up and left.

_Well, that could have gone better, _she decided. _Still, at least it doesn't look like I will have to fight with her over Onii-chan's heart._ _Of course, this also means there's no reason to wait... _Striding off towards her room to remove the disguise before anyone else could see it, she hadn't the faintest idea as to how wrong she was.

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Soaking in the bath, Motoko stared up at the night sky as she thought about her recent conversation with what she believed to be Kitsune. Sitting in one of the darker corners of the bath, the faint light from the nearby electric bulbs and the moonlight blended curiously as the two glistened on her wet skin and shone darkly off her long hair as she lay back and sought a way through her confusion.

_Why would she ask such a thing?_ she pondered, calm enough now to think about the exchanged words objectively. _She of all people should understand how deeply Naru's death must have cut him... There's no way he could be recovered enough now to even think about something like that..._ Her thoughts trailed off as she thought of how good it was to see him smile again, how much she enjoyed training with him. All of a sudden, she snapped back to herself, shaking her head fiercely.

_There's no way he's truly recovered that quickly. He's surely just putting on a brave face to reassure us. Besides, even if he was, I could... never..._ Her thoughts gave way much faster than before, this time to images of Keitaro smiling at her, of their sparring matches together, of the playfulness that had marked their recent closeness since his hospitalization. She thought of some of times when, during their mock battles, they had come close, pressed against one another, both working hard to remain still. She could feel the warmth of his exertion radiating out from him, see the tiny droplets of sweat that accumulated at his nose, and his chin, that dampened his hair and shone on his bare arms. She could hear his harsh breathing so near to her, feel his eyes on her, feel him smile suddenly...

Again, she jolted back to herself, realizing what she had been thinking. _I can't possibly be considering this!_ she reminded herself. _He's still grieving! Even if he seems all right outwardly, his spirit is still wounded..._

_Is that honor speaking? _quipped another voice from somewhere deep inside her, _Is it compassion? Or is it fear? Fear that he'd still be too hung up on Naru? The fear that held you from ever making your own attempts on his heart all those years back? _

_Damnit, conscience!_ she mentally screamed, _you aren't supposed to guilt trip me about lying to myself! Only when I lie to other people!_

_Well excuse me, _she could hear her conscience muttering, _I'll just get out of your way then. Think about what you're doing, though._ With this, it shot her a final little mental image, one of her sitting at Keitaro's bedside in the hospital. She could see his weary face, so peaceful in sleep with his mouth slightly open, his chest rising and falling. Only this time, instead of just watching, she walked to his side, bent low over his sleeping form, brought her face down to his...

"GAAAAHHH!" the tortured young woman screamed, thrashing about in the water in an attempt to rid her mind of the images even as her cheeks filled with blood and she thought how nice it would be...

Finally, she calmed herself down, stood up, and left the bathing area. As she was toweling herself off, she accepted that she might have some feelings for Keitaro, but that now was not the time to express them.

_I shall wait till I deem him ready,_ she decided, choosing to bide her time rather than risk touching on his wounds too early, hurting both herself and him.

_When is ready, though? _her conscience interjected, breaking its vow of silence. _Are we talking next week? Or next year, perhaps?_

_Oh, just shut up!_ she thought, exasperated though she knew her conscience might be right. _Ready is when I decide he's ready._ With that answer, her conscience finally quieted itself and she left for her room, there to toss and turn as she fought to come to grips with what she had just realized.

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**Hinatasou, 11:22 P.M.**

As he slept, tossing and turning in a way that belied his outward recovery, Keitaro found himself caught in the throes of nocturnal pain which, blessedly, he no longer remembered come morning. It might not strike every night any more, and the agony of his dreams might be mitigated by the presence of everyone else in the house, but his nights were still the loneliest times in his life, where he floundered in the seas of his subconscious and fought each morning to return to the warm day and warmer comfort of those around him.

So tormented was he this particular night that even his fine-tuned martial artist senses didn't pick up on the secret passage in the corner of his room opening up and admitting a single, slim, dark figure to the location of his nightly battles. He had no idea anyone was there until, through the fog of misery that pervaded his dreams, he felt a warmth coming through and melting away the agony. Rolling over, rising partially from the depths of his mental prison, levering himself up on one elbow, he half-opened his eyes to see a dark-haired girl smiling sweetly at him even as they embraced one another. Puzzlement crossed his face as his sleep-fogged brain tried to keep up with events.

"Kana...ko?" he mumbled, clearly confused and concerned. But though he fought to wake up and better understand what was going on, her warmth tugged at him all the while, pulling him down into the comfort of her embrace, whispering the seductive promise of a night without dreams.

"Hush, Onii-chan," she whispered. "I'm here to soothe what remain of your wounds. Just rest now..." she breathed, pulling him closer into her embrace and burying her face in the pocket between his neck and shoulder.

Keitaro's poor, tormented brain gave up then, letting him slip back into sleep even as he laid himself back down onto the futon and slipped further into the arms of his sister.

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And I think that might be a good place to end the fifth chapter of my little story. But, before I sign off and post this thing, let me just say a few things:

First, I would like to mention that this fic is really starting to take itself out of my hands. Originally, I kept it on a pretty tight leash, letting it stray a little, but generally forcing it to stay within a certain distance of my original path. Now, however, the story seems to have managed to get the leash wrapped around a bit of sharp metal of some kind and is even as we speak bouncing off joyously into the forest, while I frantically give chase and hope to at least figure out where it's going before it gets there. At first, I was dead set on the Keitaro X Motoko pairing, as I'm sure you can see in the first three chapters. But as I've been writing this, that firm resolve has become shaken somewhat. I think this might have a little to do with my recent viewing of Kimi Ga Nozomu Eien (which a friend of mine downloaded before the fansub ban and allowed me to watch), and I now feel that my sense of romance and tension, especially romantic tension, has changed in big ways. Anyways, I'm just trying to let you guys know that, as confused as you're all probably feeling right now, don't try and second-guess me because I honestly have no idea either.

Second, thanks to all who have reviewed thus far. Keep the support coming! As one of the most pathetically insecure human beings on the face of the planet, your words really do help me keep going with all of this, and it's always good to see that one's work is appreciated. I'm actually feeling pretty good about this story, it's one of those rare pieces that feels as though you're just sort of writing down something you've seen happen somewhere, that it's all set and you just need to keep writing it out to the end. But despite that, I still need a good stream of reviews to keep my morale up, so don't stop!

Right, I guess that's about it. Cheers, all! I'll get right to work on the next chapter. I'm not sure how long this frantic rate of updates is going to last, but I'll keep my momentum going while I've got it.


	6. Stitched Shut, Torn Open

Disclaimer: (in haiku format!)

Blossoms drift to Earth,

I do not own Love Hina,

so please do not sue

As I write this, I'm still waiting for my last update to register on In other words, I'm starting this chapter the same day as I finished my last! Scandalous! At any rate, the more I think about it, the more I think my last chapter was my best yet. I'm afraid I won't be able to top it, but I'll be damned if that stops me from trying. So, I hope you wind up liking this chapter as much as you like any of my previous work! And... yeah, I'm working on keeping the creative juices flowing, but I get the feeling my muse is going to go off and take a smoke break or something. She certainly won't go on vacation like she did 8 months ago (I've fitted her with a tracking collar, so just try and let her get away now! mwahaha...), so you don't have to worry about that, but she may leave me for a few days, or even a week or two.

VoidHawk - Thanks for the review. Honestly, until I wrote this last chapter, I was never a huge fan of Kanako... but all of a sudden, after writing from her perspective, I found her to be a much more interesting character than before and, as I said, I honestly can't tell what's going to happen now. Also, as for the whole Naru thing, that's possibly the only aspect of the story that I still know what's going on with. I won't ruin it, but I will say that although there will certainly be a twist there, I think you'll be satisfied with the way everything plays out. Unless, of course, this monster of a story runs away with that too... >. ;

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Chapter 6 - Stitched Shut, Torn Open

**Hinatasou, Mid-May**

The change was quickly noticed by all the tenants of Hinatasou, as Keitaro seemed fully back to normal. No longer did he retreat to his room for periods of quiet rest and grieving. His smiles were full and genuine, his movements confident and self-assured as they had never been, even after his marriage to Naru. Of course, everyone was all so focused on their beloved old kanrinrin's emotional state that no one noticed a similar change in their current kanrinrin, Kanako. Though the signs were less noticeable, since Kanako always acted confident and self-assured, they were still there for the observant: broader smiles, more energy, more care towards her appearance. She no longer strode through the halls of the house, grimly attending her duties, but rather swept about smiling, happily cleaning windows and floors, checking the inn for signs of disrepair and fixing them where they appeared. Even if they had noticed her strange behavior, though, the others would probably never guess the cause. They would just suspect that she was cheerful because her brother had recovered, and that she would return to normal shortly.

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Bustling her merry way through the house, Kanako thought fondly back to the first morning waking up alongside her sibling last week. Used to a morning training schedule, Keitaro woke up early. Naturally, his first reaction had been one of horror at waking up in the arms of his dear little sister, but she had anticipated that. Letting him get his bearings, she calmly sat up and let the covers fall off of her, displaying that she had been wearing pajamas (black, of course). Though this had a little bit of a calming effect on Keitaro (he had only been wearing a pair of boxers), he still found himself trying to sort out how and why Kanako had made her way into his bed.

"K-kanako! W-what, when..." babbled poor, distressed Keitaro as his brain tried to go from sleep mode to problem-solving mode in about three seconds, which tends to cause a bit of synaptic confusion.

"Onii-chan," Kanako said quietly, "I came in last night to check on you, and you seemed to be having nightmares. So, I decided to stay with you." This wasn't the complete truth, obviously, but it was all she felt he could handle right now. Sure enough, this statement caused him to relax visibly.

"Oh, I see," he replied. He broke into a brotherly smile. "Thank you, Kanako, but I'm an adult now. I can sleep by myself at night." He turned and went to gather his clothes, but Kanako wouldn't let him just dismiss the subject.

"Do you remember your nightmares, Onii-chan?" she asked in a serious tone of voice. Keitaro, his back now to her, stiffened as he thought back to the night before.

"No, no I don't..." he said, trailing off, then shaking his head to dislodge the memories threatening to surface. Going back into motion, he stooped to pick up a pair of pants he had left lying on the floor the day before.

Suddenly, he felt warmth spread across his back as something soft pressed itself against him. Arms wrapped around his front in an embrace, and he felt soft hair, mussed from the night of sleep, falling against his bare skin. His nose all of a sudden began once more to pick up the comforting scent that it had grown used to during the night, shocking Keitaro back into his scattered memories of the dream world even as Kanako whispered, "think, Onii-chan, you can remember, can't you?"

They stood there a moment, Keitaro unable to move, Kanako unwilling to, until she saw him move his head slightly in a nod.

"I... I can remember," he stated, hoarsely. "It was... dark. I heard... heard her scream. Then nothing. I was alone..." he slumped to the floor, caught by the force of the dreams. "Oh god... oh god it hurt so much... being alone..." He raised his head suddenly, sharply, as though a thought had struck him. "Then... then there was someone. They were close for a bit, a little while... it meant so much to me, them being there. I was glad... I felt that they cared about me..." he trailed off, remembering.

Somehow, though, Kanako knew this dream presence wasn't her. Frustrated, she leaned close to his ear again, asking him, "what then, was that it?"

The smile that had begun to make an appearance on Keitaro's face dropped as suddenly as though he had been struck. "No... even that person... that person... left..." His voice died to a whisper as he continued, saying, "I was alone, again. It wasn't all black anymore, but it was... there was no color, only faint shapes, like... like when you're trying to make your way through someplace new, unfamiliar, at night... There was a little light, but barely enough to get by on." He stopped again, thinking. Then he started shuddering, squeezing his eyes shut as they released tears for the first time in months.

"Another presence... came... it... was warm..." he managed, between sobs. "It... it took away the... the dark... took away everything... let me sleep." His body gave up again, then, falling over sideways until Kanako caught him, pulling him close and whispering once more into his ear as they sank to the floor together.

"Onii-chan... just rest. I won't let you be alone." Softly, soothingly, she held him, stroking his hair as sobs racked his body.

_It's a good thing I suggested we stop training Sunday mornings.._. she thought, then turned her attention back to her tortured brother, applying the balm of her caring to the scabs and scars of his soul.

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Since then, Keitaro had not once complained about her nightly visits. They kept silent about the arrangement by mutual agreement, fully aware what might happen if word got out. Both benefitted from their nights together, though, and soon Hinatasou had become completely normal. However, there were at least two who didn't share in the new atmosphere, two people over whom, for different reasons, Naru's death still loomed strongly.

With Haruka and Seta still gone, and the students all at their various schools, Motoko often found herself visiting Kitsune in the teashop after morning training. Still uncomfortable with her own feelings, Motoko had never brought up the conversation with the disguised Kanako, and Kitsune naturally had no idea that it had taken place. The two talked and chatted about the doings of the other tenants, the regulars at the teashop, and of course, about Keitaro. This morning, though, they were both concerned about the recent change in attitude around the house.

Motoko was the first to express her fears. "Keitaro seems to have been lightening up a lot on his training lately," she ventured, letting her voice reflect her concern. "He's been taking more days off, too. It's as though he just... doesn't care anymore." She receded into silence, leaving her thoughts floating in the warming spring air.

After a brief pause, Kitsune looked at her and replied, "it does seem strange. What with that and the way everyone's been acting... It's like they've all forgotten entirely that Naru ever existed. It's worrying, is what it is. I mean, it hasn't even been a year since she died!" Getting angry, she smacked the top of the counter for emphasis. "How can they just forget that quickly?"

Motoko looked up at her, shocked at the outburst. "B-but, Kitsune, just a short while ago, you were saying that we should all be getting over it!"

Kitsune looked at her sharply, puzzled and even more angry than she was a moment ago. "What the Hell are you talking about, girl?" she exclaimed.

"A-about a week ago, Saturday, when you pulled me aside into my room and asked me all those questions!" stammered the confused swordswoman, now deeply worried.

"Saturday? I was out...! Um, getting groceries, remember!" said Kitsune, barely catching herself in her distressed state.

Blushing, Motoko responded, "you said you were cancelled on..."

Kitsune's face went several shades of red simultaneously, her mouth working furiously but no words coming out, as she tried to figure out what to say to such a bizzare mix in which truth and falsehood had traded places. Eventually, she managed to scream out, "WHAT THE HELL!"

After Motoko had calmed Kitsune down, the two talked and sorted things out. What they discovered was very strange to both of them.

"All right," said Motoko. "Evidently, I talked to someone that wasn't you but seemed identical to you while you were, it seems, out on a date."

"Y-eess," said Kitsune, still rather horrified that she had been seen through. "That sounds, honestly, a lot like Kanako when she first came here," she suggested.

"True," agreed Motoko, "but why would she do something like that? I thought she was done with that childish part of herself."

"Well, she has occasionally used her costumes while you've been gone," Kitsune admitted. "Still, it was mostly for fun, or to help the rest of us. She never took our identities for any bad reasons after that first week or so. What could she be doing?"

Motoko sighed, then said, "I guess I'll have to find out. Just leave it alone for now, I'll ask her tonight."

Kitsune nodded. "Be sure to let me know when you find out. I still don't like the idea of anyone wearing my face but me." She turned to an approaching customer, waving goodbye to Motoko as she did so.

Motoko waved back, then turned and headed up the stairs to the main house.

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**Hinatasou, Same Day, 8:57 P.M.**

Deciding that now would be the perfect time to ask, since all three of the Hinatasou warriors were getting up early in the morning to train, Motoko walked the halls of the house headed towards Kanako's room. Reaching the door that marked the entrance to the kanrinrin's personal space, she steeled herself to ask the question that had been in the back of her mind all day. Taking a deep breath, she knocked three times on the door.

No answer.

Surprised, because she hadn't seen Kanako in the baths and couldn't think where else to look for her, Motoko knocked again. When there was still no response, she cracked open the door and peered inside. Nothing. She opened the door wide and stepped in, thinking to wait for Kanako until she returned from whatever she was doing this late in the evening. An hour later, a confused Motoko had to admit she was ready for bed herself, and gave up, returning to her room.

_I'll stop by and find her in the morning before we train,_ she thought as she turned out the lights and laid down on her futon.

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**Hinatasou, Next Day, 6:03 A.M.**

Stepping quietly this time to avoid waking anyone else in the household, Motoko crept down the hall once more to Kanako's room. This time she knocked gently as she simply opened the door, expecting to have to wake the girl up, since their training usually didn't start for almost another half an hour. Thus did she find herself extremely surprised by her kanrinrin's total absence from the room. The futon didn't even appear to have been slept in. Confused, Motoko stepped inside, walking about in an effort to find out where the girl might have gone.

As she looked, she found herself thinking back to that conversation with Kanako/Kitsune, turning over the words and the manner in which they had been said in a way that she hadn't really thought about before. One phrase especially kept bouncing around in her head, she wasn't sure why.

_'Are you trying to heal his heart by taking her place?' she said..._ thought Motoko. _Why do I keep thinking back to that phrase? And why did she sound so angry...?_ She pondered a few more minutes, while idly checking over the tidy stacks of paperwork on the desk and searching the room for some kind of a note, before the germ of unease that had been resting in the back of her mind reared up and struck out. She stopped, horrified by the vague connection that her mind had just made between that conversation, that phrase, Keitaro's strange behavior... No longer caring if she woke anyone, Motoko turned and bolted out of the room and down the hallway.

Sliding to a stop in front of Keitaro's door, she paused to catch her breath, considering what she was about to do. Part of her mind was telling her just to back down and forget about it. _You're probably just imagining things, _it said, urging her to calm down, _these are sketchy conclusions at best._

_But what if they're right?_ the part of her mind currently running in overdrive asked.

_Then perhaps it isn't for you to interfere,_ the detatched part of her said. _After all, she does know him far better than you, and if he's already chosen her..._

_But I care about him too! _her emotions wailed, despairing.

_And you've done your best to show him that. Besides, you're probably just jumping to conclusions here. Forget about it, ask them both about it frankly later. _The voice telling her to calm down was becoming more and more insistent.

_I just can't!_ thought Motoko desperately, and she pulled open the door just enough to look in.

Two figures, their breathing regular, made a single mound under the covers in a tangled embrace.

Turning and staggering a few steps down the hall, Motoko's legs gave out as her emotions did, causing her to slump to the floor, no longer caring if the door was closed, no longer caring if anyone saw her.

_Not ready, huh? _the voice that she had argued with in the baths the other night came back to her. She tried to reply, to give some kind of sharp, mental retort, but nothing came to her. She made a slight choking noise as tears rose to her eyes, and she stumbled back to her feet, making her way down the hall to her room.

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Back in Keitaro's room, a sharp jolt of ki jolted Keitaro out of sleep, and a feeling of terrible sadness washed over him. He looked at the door, saw it was opened a crack, and then turned again to find Kanako awake and looking towards the doorway as well.

"What just happened?" he asked her blearily. She started, jolted out of her thoughts, and turned back towards him.

"I'm sure it was nothing," she said, smiling. She then looked at the alarm clock, reached over, and turned off the alarm. "It's about time we got up anyways, right? Training in fifteen minutes." She stood up and smiled warmly at him once more before reentering the secret passage and returning to her room.

_Damn,_ she thought. _I was just about to switch to lingerie, too..._ _Now I've got to figure out a way to deal with this..._ Pondering a way out of the situation that she should have but never really did plan for, she continued down the tunnel to her room.

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Staggering to his feet and getting ready for an early morning workout, Keitaro found himself strangely bothered by what had just happened. Kanako had been very unconvincing, and the open door was a mystery that couldn't be explained by 'nothing.' And wasn't that jolt of sadness somehow familiar? It was as though he had felt that ki before, but now it was... twisted, warped. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain, he knew the person that had been outside the door. Just as he threw a shirt on, it struck him.

_Motoko!_ The thought broke through his sleep-clouded brain like a laser beam. _She must have come to wake me up and saw..._ He went red, though he couldn't think why. _After all, we are brother and sister, right? Nothing wrong with sleeping with one another..._ Even to him, the words felt unconvincing, though, as he remembered the press of Kanako's warm body against his, her soft hair brushing the back of his neck, her hot breath on his cheek, the soft crush of her breasts on his back... A drop of blood left his nose as he frantically tried waving the thoughts aside, but they kept coming. Suddenly, in the midst of all this confusion, he thought back to Motoko.

_That jolt of ki... it was so... sad..._ He stopped, thoughts of Kanako erased from his mind as he thought of the kind swordswoman who had helped him up when he had fallen to his lowest of lows. _But why...? Could she feel that way? About...me?_ Wonderingly, Keitaro finished dressing as he pondered this new development. So caught up in his thoughts was he that he managed to completely miss the second surge of ki that morning, which should have stood out like a t-rex in a shopping plaza. By the time he had reached the deck, though, he still couldn't figure out what to do, what to decide if Motoko and Kanako did, in fact, feel that way.

Fortunately for him, though unfortunately, as it would turn out, in the long run, Keitaro was spared that decision for a bit. He reached the deck to find no one there. Puzzled, he looked around, called out for Motoko and Kanako, but neither of them appeared. He turned and stood at the railing for a bit, gazing out over the peaceful grounds below, his anxiety building with each passing moment. Then, deciding to go back into the house and find the others, he walked toward the stairs.

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As she finished dressing, Kanako still found herself at a loss for a way to correct the situation. It was obvious that she had significantly underestimated Motoko yet again, and that she did have a rival for Keitaro's affections after all. Even as she thought this, she felt a strong aura approaching. Rather than the dark, midnight blue of despair from earlier, though, this aura possessed a hue that was distinctly more dangerous, that rare color color that people always mean when they say "blood red," but are never actually able to picture because they haven't seen a person's lifeblood spilling out onto the ground in arterial spurts.

Kanako had seen it, though, and this was most definitely blood red.

Whirling around to face the door, Kanako prepared herself for a potential battle. Her own ki built up around her, a strong, white aura born from her righteous love for her brother, mingled with a red tinge of anger at the thought of Motoko interfering with her happiness. The door to the room was thrown wide, and the two faced one another.

Kanako's aura wavered a moment as she looked in shock upon the face of the person before her. The Motoko standing there was not the same as the kendoist she had seen just the day before at their afternoon training session. Her red, puffed up eyes glared at her fiercely out from a face streaked with tears. Her sword rested at her side, and though it rarely left that position at her hip, it somehow seemed more ominous now, threatening in a way Kanako had never seen it before. The aura had flared up as she had spotted Kanako, and it was now huge, palpable, a force buzzing at the edges of vision and washing the world in blood.

_The other tenants must all be having bloody nightmares right now,_ was all Kanako could think for a moment before the shock wore off. Entering a fighting stance, she faced the intruder with renewed vigor, determined to protect her and Keitaro's happiness at any cost. Standing at the ready, she waited for the swordswoman to make the first move.

Motoko stood a moment in the doorway, aura pulsing, before Kanako realized that she was actually trying to control it. Breathing heavily, the kendo girl managed to push down the rage building in her gut: rage at Kanako for daring to seduce Keitaro, rage at whoever killed Naru for creating this situation, rage at herself for failing to express her feelings to Keitaro. The aura faded to a tight red band encircling her outline, as Motoko brought herself under control. Finally, sweating, teeth clenched, she managed to squeeze out a question.

"How...long...?" she demanded, her eyes never leaving Kanako's own. Deciding not to push her luck, and sensing that hurting Motoko would also hurt her own work with Keitaro, Kanako spoke honestly and calmly.

"Almost a week now," she replied, matching the swordswoman's gaze.

"Why?" Motoko almost screamed the question. "How could you?"

"I assume you realize that it wasn't really Kitsune you were talking to last week," the slender girl said, "so you know why. This has gone on long enough. Onii-chan has to move on."

"He's not ready!" yelled Motoko, no longer caring who she woke, giving voice to her own frustration. "It takes time to let go!"

Perhaps it was Motoko's own fury infecting her, but Kanako began to grow angry as well. "'Time to let go?'" she spat, "just like it took you time to let go of him after he married Naru?"

Straightening as though she had been struck, Motoko unconsciously reached for her sword as her aura wavered and bulged strangely, threatening to release itself again. "That's not the same, damnit, and you know it!" she screamed. (Downstairs, the other tenants were quietly and busily evacuating themselves and their most prized possessions to the stairs in front of the inn, fully expecting to see the whole house collapse in a matter of minutes)

Smiling, Kanako took enjoyment from dragging her fingernails on the chalkboard of Motoko's soul. "Oh, but it is, and you know it," she replied, "and I think he is ready. Why, if we just let him wallow, he'll go on like this for years!"

Shaking with rage, Motoko stared for a moment, trying to find a way to strike back that didn't involve the right hand that was, determinedly and of its own volition, creeping towards her left hip. Finally, in desperation, unable to think her actions through, she screamed, "then let's ask!" Quickly, she spun and dashed out of the room, running as fast as she was able towards the stairs to the deck.

Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, though, Keitaro emerged from the deck. Moving too fast to stop her momentum, Motoko collided with Keitaro, sending the two of them sprawling. Just as they landed, Kanako screeched to a halt after them, stopping dead in the hallway. Motoko rose to her knees and pulled Keitaro up to her by his shirt, tears once more pouring down her cheeks, screaming frantically, "is that it! Are you really recovered! Have you forgotten about Naru! Forgotten about Kurosawa, forgotten about it all!" _And if so, why didn't you see ME!_ she cried internally, _why didn't you see that I love you!"_

"Of course he's recovered, no thanks to you, always reminding him of the past!" exclaimed Kanako, running over and shoving Motoko to the side, helping the stunned Keitaro into a sitting position. "Don't you get it? He's done with all that, done with those memories, done with you! Just leave him be!" she said. Looking to Keitaro for support, she stopped. Motoko, following her gaze, gasped in horror at what she saw, becoming so disturbed that she stopped crying.

Keitaro sat, held up only by his sister's loving hands, staring slack-jawed off into space. He suddenly looked a thousand years old and terribly weary. A single tear fell from each eye, carving two glistening trails down his cheeks. Shocked, Kanako almost dropped him as he turned empty eyes to her. Motoko shuddered as that dead gaze fell next upon her. Then, still silent as though he had been struck dumb, Keitaro calmly got to his feet and walked down the hall into his room.

The two girls, left behind on the floor, watched him go and then turned to one another. Looking at each other, they each saw their own shame at their part in what had just happened written on the other's face. Reaching some silent truce, the two rose and returned to their rooms as the other tenants came in to see if the sudden silence marked the passing of whatever threat had woken them from their sleep and driven them out of their beds.

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For the rest of the day, the house was under an oppressive cloud that refused to be lifted. Motoko avoided Kanako, Kanako avoided Motoko, and absolutely everyone avoided Keitaro, who remained in his room the rest of the day. Lunch and dinner were subdued events, between which the time was filled with listlessness and pointless activity. Only one person managed to work up the courage to approach the two female fighters and ask them precisely what had happened that morning. Kitsune was unable to get anything out of Kanako, who had followed her brother's example and sealed herself into her room, but Motoko broke down and told her everything. In the end, Kitsune was left unable to think of anything to say, and just put an arm around the distraught kendo girl and gave her a shoulder to cry out her sorrows onto.

In the end, the whole house came to know the story, and everyone spent the rest of the day sulking, fully expecting Keitaro to have returned to the lethargic state they found him in when he had first returned. And so it was that everyone was surprised the next morning when they woke to find him coming downstairs from practicing his form on the deck.

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**Hinatasou, The Day After, 8:13 A.M.**

Walking downstairs, carrying a fresh set of clothes to change into when he got out of the bath, Keitaro found himself greeted by a happily surprised crowd of females, all amazed that he was showing signs of life after yesterday. He gave them a warm smile, a courteous nod, and walked off to the baths. Only Kanako and Motoko were looking closely enough to see that his smile wasn't quite as bright as before. They exchanged cautious looks, and each determined to speak with him alone later.

After breakfast, Keitaro headed back up to his room to find Kanako there already, waiting for him. Carefully, as one might approach an abused animal, she stepped forward.

"Are you all right, Onii-chan?" she asked, reaching out touch him on the arm. He flinched away from her touch, though, and an expression of pain briefly crossed his face before he responded.

"I'm fine, Kanako. Just fine. Yesterday..." he winced as he said the word, paused, then continued, "yesterday made me think about some things. I'm sorry, but I'll be sleeping alone again from tonight onwards. Thank you for helping comfort me, though." Ignoring the stunned look on Kanako's face, he walked over to a corner of the room, picked up his staff, and left once more, headed for the deck.

Left behind, Kanako fell to her knees, tears welling up in her eyes, as she tried to figure out what had gone wrong, and how.

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Ascending the stairs to the deck, Keitaro was met by the sight of Motoko, meditating on the deck, waiting for him. He walked over and sat down across from her, entering a meditative position himself. Without opening her eyes, frightened by what she might see, Motoko spoke.

"Is... is everything well with you, Keitaro?" she asked, her voice giving away the fact that her attempts at calming herself through meditation had evaporated as he reached the deck.

Smiling, he looked at her. "It's all right, Motoko," he said gently. She opened her eyes, excited by the tone of his voice and terrified by it all at once.

"I wanted to apologize!" she blurted out, giving up on any pretense of calm and poise. Her eyes searched his face fearfully for some sign of an impending breakdown, for some sign of the damage she had caused, but found nothing. He only smiled wider and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he spoke again.

"You don't need to apologize. I should be thanking you. You reminded me of what it is that I must do," he said, sounding totally calm and at peace.

Unconvinced, Motoko watched him for a while, staring until her eyes watered, unable to stop watching ther person she was so sure she'd damaged deeply the previous morning.

"If you keep staring like that, you're going to bore a hole in my head," came Keitaro's amused voice, making her jump. He kept his eyes closed as he asked, "is there something on my face I should know about? Or are you just captivated by my devilish good looks?"

Finally satisfied that he was back to normal, Motoko just smiled herself and closed her eyes, returning to meditation with her mind at ease.

She never wondered what Keitaro might have been hiding behind those closed eyelids, though, and so never realized that she had brought back something that only Keitaro knew existed, something that would lead to much pain in the future. For now, though, everyone at Hinatasou had their fears eased, with the two exceptions of Kanako and Keitaro, each of whom found themselves fighting the effects of a blow that had caught them totally by surprise and rattled them to the core.

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Ah, that feels better. I just fixed the last scene. Up until this chapter, my process for producing this thing has been five minutes of pondering, anywhere from four to seven hours of writing, and then one minute of posting. Now, starting with this chapter, I've added a new step: wait an hour or two, then go back and re-read the damn thing. It's amazing what can be caught and fixed when you do that... I thought the first ending I wrote for the chapter felt wrong, and after re-reading it, I figured out that that was because it was wrong. Anyways, all is now well with the world, I've written my sixth chapter... (just need to figure out a name for it before I post it. Chapters 1-4 I named before writing, and now I'm doing the reverse) My muse has just announced her coffee break, timed perfectly to give me the chance to save my econ grade from it's downward spiral, and so I probably won't be writing anything for at least... oh, a few days?

Thanks for the reviews thus far, keep them coming, yadda yadda yadda. You all know the spiel by now, I'm sure you're getting sick of hearing it. Oh, and those of you who've put my story on your author alert list and haven't reviewed yet - yes, I know you exist. Thank you, for your wonderful stats page, and for giving me the power to heckle those that think they can just read my fic without giving anything back! GRRR! Seriously though, please, if you enjoyed my fic, write a review! Even if it's only a sentence or two, it's good to know that what I'm doing is appreciated.

That's all for now. Catch you on the flip side!

Vagonnoth


	7. An Unlikely Problem Solver

Disclaimer: t3h l337 luv h1n4z n07 m1n3, f00. (Ah! The l33tspeak! it burns the eyes!)

Honestly, dunno what I can say before I write this one... I'm determined to start really improving and do something new this time around, but I'll be damned if I know precisely what I'm going to be doing to accomplish this. Thanks again, Ronin Writer, for introducing me to Yamiga's Light (sounds kinda like some sort of religion, doesn't it?), and for bringing some humility back into my head just as pride was threatening to give way to hubris. Arigatou, ganbarimasu!

Oh, and Void Hawk... did I just see you use the word "pro" in a sentence pertaining to me? Without a negative in front of it, like "not pro," or "never pro?" Excuse me, I think I'm going to go laugh myself to death. I mean, there's compliments, and then there's flattery, and then there's really really undeserved flattery. But hey, thanks anyways. I'm glad you like what I'm doing. XD To answer the rest of your stuff, yes this thing will probably hit something like 30 chapters, and I'm starting to suspect it may even have a sequel. As for the future... heavy drama, check. Crazy fight scenes, check. Angst, check and circle it a few times for good measure. General explosives, weaponry and death, check. Mystic crap relating to ancient ruins, check. Some relatively comedic moments, check. It's all there, all coming up, and it will probably take at least a month before we get anywhere farther away than Hinatasou. Things may speed up a tad after I graduate though, we'll see.

ShadeXH - What can I say, I expected to take a lot of flak for that one but it was the only way I could see to achieve my ends without totally throwing Naru OOC. I don't like the idea of changing a perfectly good personality, so I avoid it whenever possible. Oh and as an aside for anyone who's been worrying about the changed personalities in other characters, I just wanted to say that I'm doing my best to depict them a few years down the road. Obviously it's all speculation, but it's the best I can do in the circumstances. Anyways, ShadeXH, sorry you feel that way but you may feel at least a bit better about things by the end. Or then again, maybe not, you never know. ; )

In case you haven't guessed, I've been writing these comments as I come across things to write about... I just wanted to mention now that I've lightly updated the last few chapters with respect to Keitaro's staff. I decided that a Jo staff would perhaps be better than a Bo staff considering where and how Keitaro will be using it. Besides, that's pretty much what I envisioned when I first began writing this, someone just misinformed me that the only real kind of Japanese fighting staff was the Bo staff, something I need to injure that person for now. Anyways, the basic difference is that the Jo staff is four feet instead of five to six feet in length, and it's also lighter and more slender for faster movement and easier manipulation. Yay for google searches! Anyways. Time to stop the commentary and move on to the story.

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Chapter 7 - An Unlikely Problem Solver

Dawn's rosy glow filled the sky to the east as waves of soft light rolled across the countryside, striking Hinatasou and causing it to glow warmly. Every railing, every window, every detail was outlined in the beautiful light of that morning. It was a gorgeous new day, free from the bold-print time/space indicators that the author had just decided to remove, the story growing quickly now that it had been given a shot of the fertilizer that was the writer's new resolution to improve himself and his work.

The dawn gave way to full, brilliant, early summer morning. The day was so perfect that it stopped even Haruka in her tracks as she walked towards the house, the taxi she had just left zooming away noisily and leaving nothing behind it but silence, interrupted only by the occasional birdsong. In a rare display of emotion, she sighed and allowed herself to simply stand there, halfway up the stone stairs leading to the house. Looking up at the cherry trees, she found herself a bit disappointed that she had missed their blooming but comforted herself with the thought that there was always next year, and that the work she had been doing with Seta had been just as enjoyable as any hanami party. He was still finishing up the dig but she had come back a bit early, feeling that the residents of Hinatasou, especially Keitaro, might need her.

Brought back to reality by the sober nature of the events that had brought her back toHinatasou, she sighed once more and shook her head. Still trying to reconcile the dark events hanging over the Hinata House with the beauty and calm the place exuded, Haruka began once more to make her way to the top of the stairs. As she braced herself for whatever scene of despair awaited her, though, she would be surprised to learn of the current state of the house.

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"Fire Super Tama Rocket Cluster number one! Don't let him get away!"

Explosions and crashes ripped through the house, causing windows to rattle and water to ripple as approximately half the Hinatasou residents sat at the breakfast table and tried to eat their breakfast. As another blast caused the house to shudder, Motoko calmly reached out one hand to steady a dangerously off-balance glass, the other hand occupied with her breakfast. Shinobu and Ema jumped with each blast until the others began to fear they were going to have a nervous breakdown, just as they had worried for the past couple of weeks. Mutsumi, of course, was unaffected. Then again, it's doubtful the appearance of the four horsemen riding through the dining room would faze her (especially since she was intimately acquainted with at least one of them).

Finally, after a few more minutes of suffering through the sounds of destruction, Kanako stood, announcing, "I shall go and put a stop to this. As manager, it is my duty to ensure the comfort of my guests." She walked out of the room and down the hallway. The breakfasters paused, waiting to see what would happen next. There was a moment of silence, followed by the sound of feet flapping hard against the floor. They heard the sound of a door sliding open, and then two voices simultaneously crying, "oof!" as their respective owners evidently collided.

Straining to hear, the more astute listeners at the table were able to make out a brief and hastily held exchange:

"Gah! K-kanako!"

"Onii-chan, what are you doing? Everyone's -"

"No time! Quick!"

"But your food-"

"No ti- crap!"

"A-HA! Found ya!"

Once again, explosions rocked the house, this time sending both Keitaro and Kanako flying through the air into the dining room, where they bounced and rolled to a stop some distance from the table, slightly smoking. Kanako, of course, was first on her feet, only to fall back over when she discovered she was unable to straighten up fully. Upon closer examination of the situation, it became evident that a stunned Keitaro had grasped the closest thing to hand, which naturally happened to be a portion of Kanako's dress located distinctly north and towards the front. Having landed flat on top of him, Kanako blushed and murmured, "Onii-chan," before hearing the incoming swoosh of another rocket cluster.

Motoko was amazingly quick to take cover, disappearing beneath the table with her breakfast in one hand and drink in the other in less than a second. Kanako acted quickly as well, wrapping her arms about Keitaro and rolling rapidly to the side with remarkable agility. The other diners, however, were less fortunate. The explosion blasted food into diners and, for that matter, diners into food, turning the scene from pleasant breakfast to gourmet's nightmare in a matter of moments. Having removed herself from Keitaro's grip, Kanako straightened up, all fury and rage with her hair standing on end and her battle aura blazing.

"You... you little..." she growled, shaking with anger, at Su. The foreign girl, standing in the doorway behind her creation, remote in hand, gave a nervous giggle.

"Hehheh... oopsie?" she said, turning and running away from the infuriated Kanrinrin, who immediately gave chase. Screaming incoherently, the girl who usually seemed so dark and fragile pursued the mad inventor with a vigor that would put a viking berserker to shame. As the sound of the chase disappeared down the hall, Keitaro came to much faster than he would have in the past, sitting up with a sigh and clapping a hand to his forehead. He looked around at the devastation briefly before saying what was on his mind.

"I don't suppose there's a chance at breakfast anymore, is there?" he asked, smiling wryly as he did so. Faces covered in Shinobu's wonderful cooking glared back at him grimly, as though daring him to look around the room and say that again. All faces but one, that is.

"Ara, ara..." Mutsumi said, hand traveling to cover her mouth. "It looks as though all the food is gone, Kei-kun. I'm sorry." All eyes turned to her, shocked, as they realized that Mutsumi had somehow, miraculously, completely avoided getting hit by... well, by anything.

_Good thing anyways, _they all thought, sweatdropping. S_he probably would have died again if she had been hit..._

Then Motoko reemerged from under the table, calmly brushed off her chair, sat down, and resumed eating. This time all eyes were on her, staring accusingly. Except for Mutsumi, who couldn't look accusingly at anything if her life depended on it, and Keitaro, whose eyes would better be described as filled with hopefulness mingled with longing.

"Say, uh, Motoko," he said wistfully, "you aren't going to finish all of that, are you?" In reply the swordswoman paused in her steady consumption, turned to him, raised an eyebrow, and then turned back to her meal. Sighing, Keitaro shook his head and got to his feet.

"Fine, fine," he muttered. "That's just really cold of you, you know? You know I'd share if I was in your place..." his smile belied his bitter tone, giving away the joke that was in his face, if not in his voice. "I guess I'll just have to see what I can dig up in the kitchen," he finished, walking across the room and through the doorway, leaving behind a still stunned group of females sitting covered in food.

As the girls finally stood and began cleaning up, the sounds of chase began coming back, once more accompanied by explosions and impacts as Kanako's ki blasts competed with Su's heavily armed mechanical turtle. Fortunately, they didn't pass through the dining room again, but they passed awfully close, heading into the main foyer. Suddenly, there was silence once more. Puzzled, the girls stopped their activities and stood still, listening for the second time that morning. The next moment, they all jumped into the air as a familiar voice roared its dissatisfaction at the two bodies and one mechanical chelonian that had struck her squarely in the chest.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" screamed Haruka, struggling to her feet to loom over the two girls heaped on the floor. Despite her angry appearance, Haruka was secretly relieved that things were actually back to normal. Still, she refused to relax completely until she had seen Keitaro. Just then, Kanako gained her feet as well, standing to face the older woman.

"I apologize, Aunt Haruka, for the accident. I was merely in the process of chastizing this disruptive tenant," she said calmly, reaching down and picking Su up by the back of her shirt. The foreign bundle of energy and trouble looked up sheepishly at Haruka and grinned. Haruka, confronted by the one person she was unable to really deal with, found herself somewhat at a loss for words.

"Um... ahem, I accept your apology. Just... don't let it happen again," she said, dusting herself off and marching briskly into the house interior to get away from her often creepy niece. As she entered the dining room, she was confronted with the remnants of this morning's demonstration of classic Hinatasou-style destruction. Stifling and uncharacteristic smile at the scene, she simply said, "I'm not even going to ask what happened here since I think I already ran into the cause out in the foyer." Sitting down on one of the cleaned seats, Haruka lit herself a cigarette as she was surrounded by all the girls welcoming her back, saying how grateful they were that she would be there to help take care of things.

"So," Haruka asked, "how have things been while I've been gone?" Everyone began babbling all at once, each person trying to explain the events of the past few months in their own words and to pass their own worries on to the long-absent authority figure. Finally, Haruka stood up and waved her right hand, holding the cigarette between its fingers, in order to calm the incoherent gabble. "It sounds like you've all been busy while I was away," she said. "So where's Keitaro at? I'd like to speak to him."

This gave everyone a moment's pause. Keitaro had taken to leaving them all for moments of quiet again after what everyone just referred to as "that morning," though he no longer spent them in his room. They usually saw him walking around the grounds, and once or twice they found him sitting in his spot on the roof, but decided to leave him to his thoughts. Since he had disappeared after breakfast, they decided, he was probably off looking for a bit of peace again. They told Haruka as much, and she nodded, saying, "I'll just go find him then, if that's all right with the rest of you. I'll hear all your stories later." And with that she took a long drag on her cigarette, turned, and walked back out of the room.

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She found him almost a half an hour later, sitting by a pond some distance from the inn. He sat on a stone, his expression blank, as he watched some very bland and generic looking fish swim about in the somewhat murky water. So lost was he in his thoughts that he never noticed Haruka approach, not even when she sat down on a stone just a few feet away from him and sat in silence a bit, watching the pond as well. Finally, after a minute or two, she turned towards him and said, quietly, "So, Keitaro, how have you been?"

Keitaro started, jolted out of his reverie, then turned and looked over at his aunt. For a moment, his eyes remained dead and blank, but then he came all the way back from whatever depths he had been plumbing and smiled in recognition. He jumped up from his seat, wincing as blood rushed to his head and his circulatory system fought to catch up with his sudden movement, then jumped forward to give her a hug. In an atypical aknowledgement of their familial bond, Haruka permitted the embrace, even going so far as to lift an arm and wrap it around his shoulders. She waited a moment, then broke the hug, pushing Keitaro back a bit until she held him by the shoulders at arm's length, inspecting him closely.

"Are you all right?" she asked seriously, scrutinizing his face for any signs to the contrary. "How have you been doing?" Despite the cheerfulness of the other tenants, she was still afraid that Keitaro might be simply keeping his pain to himself. He'd always been such a good kid, he would never let anyone worry about him, trying to keep his problems to himself while simultaneously helping everyone else around him. It was part of what made him such a likeable guy, but that tendency had the potential to put enormous amounts of strain on his psyche.

Keitaro grinned and, laughing, pushed his aunt's hands off his shoulders. "I'm just fine, Aunt Haruka! Never been better. Don't worry about me, I was just enjoying the view over here." He waved an arm, inviting her to enjoy the surroundings as much as he claimed he did. "More importantly, how have you been? How was the expedition? I can't wait to hear all about it." He paused a moment, his smile waning a little, before asking, "is Seta back as well?"

For a moment, Haruka almost wanted to believe in Keitaro's recovery. But a small voice in the back of her head, a voice that had never led her wrong in the past, told her to beware coming to conclusions based on this happy face before her. Still, she allowed a small smile to grace her face as she responded, saying, "I'm afraid not, sorry Keitaro. The dig wasn't quite over when I left, but I was getting a bit homesick and decided to come back." She didn't want to inform him that he was the real reason she had returned, since that would just make him more careful about worrying her.

Upon hearing that Haruka had returned alone, a thoughtful look crossed Keitaro's face briefly, only to be replaced the next moment by that impenetrable smile of his. "That's too bad," he said, starting to walk back to Hinatasou, "but I'm glad you're here. Come on, let's head back up to the house! Have you said hello to the others yet?"

Haruka smiled wryly as she fell into step next to him. "You might say I got a classic Hinatasou greeting from Su, your sister, and what appeared to be a large, mechanical, shelled reptile of some sort. I don't want to say turtle because I would never be able to look at Tama-chan again..." She shook her head, trying hard not to chuckle as she thought back to the look on their faces when they had run into her.

Keitaro winced, then laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. "Yes, I'm afraid things are very much back to normal around here. I trust you didn't hurt them too badly?"

Haruka couldn't take it anymore, letting loose a whole-hearted laugh at her nephew's concern. "No," she chuckled, "I didn't thrash them." She stopped laughing, then spoke a little more seriously. "Besides, Kanako was there. You know I just don't deal well with that girl..." she sighed, not knowing what to do about her adoptive niece. She turned her head to see Keitaro looking back at her with a serious look on his face.

"Actually, Aunt Haruka-" he started.

"That's Haruka, you dolt!" she cut in, whacking him across the back of the head. "I let you get away with it at the pond because it would have spoiled the meeting, but now you'd better get it right."

Grinning again, Keitaro bobbed his head in apology. "All right, sorry... Haruka. Anyways, I just wanted to ask you a small favor."

Puzzled, her worries making a sudden return, she stared at him a moment before answering. "What kind of a favor are we talking about here?" she asked.

Flapping his hands, Keitaro tried reassuring her. "No, no, don't worry! It's nothing too terrible... It's just that, well, there was something of an argument in the house a while back, and since then I've been a bit worried about Kanako. I mean, she hasn't been acting as though anything were wrong, but... well, something just doesn't seem right, and I do care a lot about her, so could you help me out and wach over her for a bit? Somehow I think that having an older woman around to talk to might..." he realized his mistake too late, as Haruka reddened at the "older woman."

"Ah! No, I, uh, I mean, um, a more experien-" he managed to stammer before being caught by a remarkably swift uppercut from Haruka, sending him sailing over to land in front of the main entryway. He skidded to a stop, thanks to the friction between the ground and his face, then stood up rubbing his cheek. When Haruka finally caught up with him, she was relieved to see that his immortality had come back along with his good cheer. That little voice just wouldn't be quiet, though, so she resigned herself to a long observational period as she walked up to Keitaro and gave him her answer.

"I'll see what I can do," she said, "but you owe me one." Keitaro grinned in relief and, ignoring the mild pain in the side of his face, gave her a hug again. Naturally, since they were within view of the inn this time, this act earned him another trip via the Haruka express, but even as he was launched indoors, he was smiling.

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While Keitaro was getting ready for afternoon training, Kitsune pulled Haruka aside and filled her in on the details of Keitaro's life at Hinatasou, including the episode a couple of weeks earlier. Haruka became very grave upon hearing what Motoko had told Kitsune, deciding she had been right to worry about Keitaro. An incident like that should leave a lasting scar, and even if he didn't show it, Haruka knew that Keitaro was nursing a wound somewhere inside. Still, there was nothing she could do unless Keitaro became willing to confide in her. If he had someone else he was really close to, there might be a chance at him healing once more, but Kitsune killed that grain of hope quickly.

She said that since the fight, Keitaro had become both more active and more withdrawn. He played around more and acted more like his normal self, but while he had seemed to have been entertaining romantic notions about Motoko and/or Kanako before that morning, he had pulled back from any relationships like that since. He was very friendly towards them, towards all the tenants, but if at any time one seemed to be flirting with him, or even just got a little too close emotionally, he would pull away and excuse himself.

So, she said, they had all learned to avoid any situations like that. No one really worried much about it, with the exception of Kitsune and, natually, Motoko and Kanako. Shinobu had been one of the few tenants to move on after Keitaro left, finding that the boys in school were rapidly beginning to notice her and that some of them were definitely worth her attention. Ema had never had the connection with Keitaro the others did, and besides, she spent most of her time with Sara, who had only grudgingly accepted Keitaro and was still a long way from ever considering him a romantic object. Su was... well, in Kitsune's own words, Su was a tough nut to crack. It was hard to tell what was going on behind that hyperactive front but Kitsune suspected that, while she did care for Keitaro, she was perhaps the fourth least interested person in the house after Kitsune herself, Sara, and Ema. Though they had been messing him around earlier, all these girls really cared about was having their cheerful, playful old manager back with them. The didn't worry much about his emotional barriers since they didn't really see evidence of them a whole lot.

As for the others, Kitsune herself was only worried because she found herself taking on the role of authority figure when Haruka was gone and that tends to give you a mother hen kind of mentality whether you want it or not. Motoko, judging by her confessions from the day of the fight, had managed to completely fall for Keitaro when she saw him again after all those years. Motoko, however, for all that she was the one to break down in front of Kitsune, was almost certainly mentally and emotionally strong enough to deal with all of this. In fact, if anyone was likely to pull Keitaro out of his current state, Kitsune decided, it would probably be Motoko.

The other girl, Kanako, was the one Kitsune was concerned about. Her behavior and methods for dealing with things were pretty similar to Keitaro's, though of course for different reasons. She didn't confide in anyone because, despite having bonded pretty well with the other girls at the inn, she was still fairly introverted and had a hard time really getting close to people. She kept an impenetrable facade up at all times, only letting it slip when enraged or around Keitaro. And, of course, even that second scenario had now been taken away. Finally, she was the one to know Keitaro best and longest, and the one whose emotions were most thoroughly anchored in Keitaro's well-being. All in all, her emotional state could be likened to an instant spaghetti-o's container being microwaved with the foil lid still on it. Only in Kanako's case, the microwave had just been turned up to high power. Something was going to give, and Kitsune was afraid to see what would happen when it did.

After digesting all this information for a moment, Haruka inquired about Mutsumi, giving Kitsune a nasty shock. Though now an older authority figure, Kitsune still prided herself on her encyclopedic knowledge of gossip and of the people around her. The fact that she had forgotten one of the most idiosyncratic members of the household confused and alarmed her, and she was only able to speculate that the watermelon girl had slipped her mind because she was just so low-profile. Still mentally reeling, she gave Haruka her best estimate: that she had given Keitaro up to Naru all those years ago and that she considered it a permanent gift. Besides, Mutsumi spent so much time close to death, perhaps she didn't see it as all that big an obstacle to a marriage.

In the end, Haruka realized, Keitaro had been right in worrying about Kanako. However, he also needed a significant amount of worrying to be done about him. After thanking Kitsune for the update, Haruka went to her room to think about what she could possibly do to help Keitaro and the girls of Hinatasou before something worse than that fight happened.

_I don't even have any kids of my own, unless you count Sara, and already I feel like a mother hen..._ she thought as she walked into her room and closed the door behind her. _Still, they really do need my help. _She lay down on her futon, lacing her fingers behind her head, and stared at the ceiling, thinking, feeling a rare wave of helplessness wash over her.

_But what can I do?_

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After spending some time lost in futile thought, Haruka decided to give up for now and go watch Keitaro and the others train. Something would come to her eventually, and dwelling on it would only make it worse. She rose, stretching, from the futon, and walked out of her room and up to the deck.

Emerging into the early afternoon sun, Haruka saw Keitaro and Motoko sparring, the two seeming to be more or less evenly matched. Both weapons blurred with speed, cracking against one another so rapidly it sounded as though a woodpecker had mutated and grown to the size of a person and was even now hammering at the deck's supports. Somewhat skilled in the martial arts herself, Haruka was able to watch closely and catch some of the movements as they went by: Motoko going in for a downward chop to the shoulder, Keitaro blocking with his weapon then rotating his body out of range as he dropped his left hand low, allowing her weapon to slide away and him to spin about with a quick stab at chest level, only to find that she had anticipated him and come around to his side, swinging horizontally.

Throwing himself into the stab, converting it into a dive roll, Keitaro came up and whirled about as Motoko charged forward, leaving the briefest of pauses before their weapons blurred once more beyond Haruka's ability to follow. In that pause, however, Haruka had a moment's shock as she recognized the staff held in Keitaro's hands from the Hinatasou armory. It was one of the few weapons she knew by sight from Granny Hina's instructional tour of the house, and though she couldn't quite remember details, she knew that the old woman had only pointed out weapons that she considered dangerous beyond their ability to create physical wounds.

A moment later, the two duelists' blurring movements stopped as Motoko scored a hit with her bokken on Keitaro's side, sending him sprawling. Haruka winced, then realized that Keitaro was fine as he bounced back up, leaning to his left slightly and nursing what should have been a number of cracked ribs but instead seemed to be only a large bruise. Motoko, having been through this all before, just sighed and shook her head. She then turned to Haruka and nodded in greeting. Keitaro followed her gaze and straightened as he spotted his aunt.

Haruka nodded to them and to Kanako, who had turned her eyes away from the two others and was now staring blankly at Haruka. Looking around at the three of them, Haruka found herself trying to decide which of the stack of problems facing her she ought to face first.

_Start with the quickest, _she decided, _then move to the long-term problems._ Looking at Motoko, she asked, "are you about done?"

Motoko, still flushed with exertion, smiled back at her. "Actually, I think I'm about ready to call it a day." She turned to Keitaro. "Is that all right with you?" she asked.

Keitaro, even more exhausted looking and drenched in sweat, nodded and took a few steps towards Haruka just as she said to Motoko, "well in that case, would you mind chatting with me for a minute?" Keitaro paused, an impatient look crossing his face briefly, then smiled again and resumed walking, this time for the stairs.

"If you'll all just excuse me, I'll go take a quick shower," he said, moving past his aunt and downstairs. Kanako followed wordlessly, disappearing into the inn after him, leaving the other two alone on the deck.

Once Kanako had left, Haruka turned and looked severely at Motoko. Motoko found herself worried at this sudden talk, and asked, "is there something wrong, Haruka-san?"

Haruka waited a moment before replying. "How long has Keitaro been using that staff?" she asked.

A sudden flash of understanding struck Motoko as she realized what Haruka was concerned about, and her expression grew grave as well. "Mid to late March, I think. I examined the weapon when we found it, but couldn't find anything overtly hostile about it. It did seem strange, though. Is there something wrong with it?"

Haruka's expression turned thoughtful as she replied, "I'm not sure. I recognize it, so there must be something important about it, but I can't seem to remember what." She paused, then went on. "Still, if he's been using this long without any negative effects, I don't see any problem with allowing him to keep using it a while longer. I'll dig through the records tonight and see if I can't figure out the story behind the staff. Just keep an eye on it and on Keitaro, ok?"

Motoko smiled with relief and nodded as she said, "I'll be sure to watch out for any issues." She stopped for a second, as though struck by a thought, and her manner grew somber once more. "Um, Haruka-san? About Keitaro... I think there's something you should know." She flushed bright red as she began trying to explain about the fight a while back, until Haruka waved her into silence.

"I know all about it from Kitsune, of course. Don't worry, I understand," she added, seeing Motoko's face redden even further. "But please," she went on, "do your best to stay close to him, all right? He may seem fine, but there's still something wrong. He needs a companion now, whether he realizes it or not." Then, leaving Motoko to sort out her emotions and get her face back to a normal hue, Haruka turned and went back downstairs.

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That night, as Haruka pored over the dusty old texts that represented the chronicles of the mysterious, magical, historical, or otherwise noteworthy items at Hinatasou (she was on volume XIV thus far), a knock came at the door to her room. Surprised, since few people were confident enough to actually disturb her in the evening, she stood, brushed herself off, and went to answer the knock. When she opened the door, though, she wasn't quite surprised to find that the visitor was Keitaro, smiling that unfathomable smile of his. It was actually starting to bother her, she realized, that smile. It would be perfectly pleasant if you didn't know what had happened to him lately, but as things were, it felt as though he were lying to her.

Standing to the side and allowing him into the room, she shut the door after him. "Well?" she asked, "what's on your mind now?" As he walked over and took a look at the books on her desk, she added, "I was just doing some reorganizing, and I got a bit nostalgic." Keitaro nodded, clearly not really listening or even looking at the books, as she kicked herself for making up such a crappy explanation. Finally, he turned and, looking her in the eye, said what was on his mind.

"Haruka, I would be grateful if you'd be willing to instruct me in the use of guns," he said seriously, for once allowing the smile to leave his face.

Haruka examined him closely for a minute or two before asking, "how come?" His response was immediate.

"The man I'm going after is proficient at more than just close combat, and he doesn't play fair. I don't see what chance I have unless I fight him on his level." He looked deadly serious, and it was clear that he had thought a lot about this.

Haruka was shocked. This was far more worrying than anything else that had happened so far. Keitaro was not the sort to calculate odds, or to consider things possible or impossible, and he was most definitely not the sort to sacrifice honor and honesty for practicality. She stared at him even more closely than before, trying to discern some sign that he had his doubts about this course of action as she asked, "are you sure? You don't strike me as the sort to go into distance fighting. I didn't think it was like you, lowering yourself to your opponent's level in order to beat them."

For a moment, so brief that she couldn't be sure it had happened at all, a bit of pain and indecision flickered in Keitaro's eyes. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind that blank certainty once more. He nodded, saying, "yes, I'm positive. Will you take me to the firing range this week?"

After a long moment, Haruka finally nodded agreement, not seeing how she could do anything else. _I have to find a way to fix this fast, _she thought, _or else the Keitaro we knew will be gone forever. The only problem is, I can't even see what he is now or what he's turning into!_ Her frustrated train of thought was interrupted momentarily as Keitaro spoke again.

"Um, also, Haruka..." he trailed off, looking genuinely concerned.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Could you... not tell anyone else about this? I'm... I'm not sure what to tell them, but could you just not tell them about the firearms training?" He looked so worried at the prospect of the others finding out that Haruka was once more convinced that his salvation lay in one of the other girls at Hinatasou. Though he was certain of his course when only thinking about himself, considering how his actions would look in the eyes of the other tenants brought him back to his old self somewhat, or at least allowed him to realize the truth that he managed to deny to his own heart.

"Don't worry," she said, "I'll think of something."

Looking relieved, Keitaro smiled that huge, I-can't-believe-it's-not-a-smile of his and, bobbing his head, left the room.

"Goodnight, Aunt Haruka," he said, stepping around the corner just as she threw a paperweight at him. Left alone, Haruka sat in silence for a few minutes before shaking herself and returning to the texts on her desk.

_One thing at a time, _she told herself, vowing that she would start dealing with Kanako tomorrow and see what she could do through her and Motoko to get the old Keitaro back.

It was shortly after that, somewhere around nine o'clock, when she found the photograph of the staff stuck in between the pages relating its history, or what was known of it. What she discovered wasn't reassuring.

_Curiouser and curiouser, _she thought, recalling the phrase from a famous book she had read in English as a teen. _How the Hell did he come to choose something like that?_ She finally decided to stop fighting the jetlag and call it a night, to let her mind sort things out as she slept. Things would be clearer in the morning. Turning out the lights and flopping down on her futon, one last thought flashed through her head as sleep overcame her.

_If I sent the script of this place in to a television station as an idea for a soap opera, _she thought, _they'd refuse it on the grounds of it being too unrealistic._

_Story of my life, I guess._

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Phew! All right, 'tis done! I've been writing this thing in small increments over the past few days, and it took a lot longer than the others to write because a) it's longer and b) this time I actually took my time and really thought about everything I wrote. Oh, and those of you getting impatient with all of the angsty problems circulating here, I'm hoping to start solving a thing or two in the next chapter. Keitaro's issues, though, will probably last for some time. With a little luck, I may be able to piece some things together for you guys in the near future, but our poor, battered Ulysses is only about a fourth of the way through his travels, if that.

This fanfic is rapidly becoming THE thing I do in my freetime, and it's really giving me some problems when it combines with the senioritis I'm experiencing. Oh well, I'll just have to try and keep everything together... funny, sometimes I can't write at all, other times it just won't stop coming. Meh, such is life. Please review, yadda yadda, and I hope you like my latest and greatest attempt at improving my writing. God, I really admire Yamiga's Light right now...

Oh yeah, finally, I saw some kinda announcement the other day on saying not to post song lyrics in your fics if they aren't yours...? Does that mean songfics are outlawed now, b/c I was thinking about trying my hand at one of those... Anyways, I'm too lazy to mail the staff unless I absolutely have to, so if one of you smart people out there who happens to be in touch with current events could maybe mention if songfics are banned or not in their review, that'd be nice. If not, I'll have to actually email staff, and that makes me a sad panda.

Man, I like to blab, don't I?

Peace,

Vagonnoth


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